


5-0-5

by ifyouloveme_letmebinge



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Porn, Armitage Hux Being An Asshole, Armitage Hux Has Issues, Armitage Hux Hates Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux is a Jerk, Badass Phasma, Badass Reader, Canon Divergence - Star Wars Expanded Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Creepy Snoke (Star Wars), Dominant Armitage Hux, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, First Order Politics (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Reader, Heavy Angst, I try to be funny, Lightsabers, MORE SMUT WARNINGS HERE:, No Beta, Office Blow Jobs, Phasma Ships It, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Power Bottom Armitage Hux, Power Dynamics, Pre-Canon, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Reader is so goddamn insecure, Shameless Clone Wars references, Sith Politics, Sith Training, Snoke Being a Dick, Starkiller Base, The First Order Sucks, Top Armitage Hux, Watch me make shit up about the Force, We Die Like Men, and ill explain why in this fic since the movies didn't feel like it, apprentice reader, bc im sick of us NOT being a bad bitch, can you blame me, like girl chill you're fine, she lowkey ships you and Hux, watch me change canon and completely disregard it so it fits my timeline, yay!, yes that’s a threat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25413169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifyouloveme_letmebinge/pseuds/ifyouloveme_letmebinge
Summary: The dawn of the First Order's reign approaches. Everyone has their part to play, their destiny to fulfill. And you have to find a way to deal with Hux if you're going to survive to see the other side.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Reader, Armitage Hux/You
Comments: 32
Kudos: 99





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Heyoooo wassup??? 
> 
> Welcome to my Hux fic!! I've never even read a Hux/reader fic but one night this idea popped into my head and he was the only one who I thought this fit with, sooo... also a good friend reminded me that YES: HUX IS HOT and I WILL continue to defend that until the day I die!! 
> 
> Heavily inspired by 505 by Arctic Monkeys. I want that shit to play during my funeral. God, what a masterful piece of music... gets me everytime. I want this fic to encorporate the whole song and I will work for it!!
> 
> I also wanted to write a Reader fic that didn't include the words "Y/N" and in which nobody would be able to call Reader a dumb bitch for being... literally a normal person. So you get emo!Reader instead! HAH! 
> 
> Additionally, I thought the sequels left a lot to be desired and explained... Why does Hux hate Kylo again? Why is he above his Commander status? Where is Millicent? Why does Hux always have a stick up his ass? Why is Snoke an asshole? Does Kylo really wear a mask just to be like Vader? Why didn't we see more of Phasma being a bad bitch? 
> 
> All those burning questions, and more, I promise to answer...
> 
> I'm real excited about this. There's quite a lot of stuff to come *winks with both eyes* I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> To Starkiller we goooo...

A long time ago... 

In a galaxy far, far away... 

History repeats itself.


	2. Personal Opinions

It was a simple matter of whether you had time to deal with Armitage Hux or not. 

And with how  _ insufferable  _ he was being today, it seemed like the best choice would be to not waste your precious time. 

“General, if you would simply get  _ off _ your  _ step stool  _ and analyze this from a  _ rational  _ point of view, then you would  _ see—“  _

You raised a gloved hand. “Would you care to remind me of your rank,  _ Armitage?”  _

Hux’s sneer faded and his face turned to stone. His green eyes dimmed darker, and you could feel his rage spike.  _ How delightful, he’s so easy.  _

“Commander  _ Hux _ , of the First Order,” He bit out. 

“And would you also do me the grandiose favor of telling me what  _ my _ rank is, Commander Hux?” 

“You… are the General, ma’am.” 

You couldn’t help the smile that came to your face. “ _ Very good,  _ Commander. Now, if I’m not mistaken, which I almost never am, my rank outranks yours… isn’t that correct?” 

Hux only nodded stiffly. 

“Since that is the case,” you continued with a smirk, “it must mean that when I make a decision, it is  _ final _ , as I hold the power here. Unless you are intent on  _ disrespecting me _ , Commander, I’d urge you to rethink your words.” 

You watched as his jaw clench and he blinked twice before opening his stupid mouth again. “But ma'am—“ 

He didn’t continue. But that’s because he was too busy trying to gasp air in as you  _ squeezed  _ his throat and airways shut. Your arm was raised to your shoulder, directly in front of him, but instead of pointing to Hux, your fingers were curling in towards each other as you choked him to your heart's content. 

There was something about seeing his eyes bulge just slightly, his face turn red, his hands grasp at the invisible bricks crushing his throat that made the worst parts of you sing with glee. 

As enjoyable as it was to teach Hux the lesson he deserved though, you relaxed your hand and let him go, dropping your arm.  _ Another day to finish the job, then.  _

Hux was wheezing in huge breaths, probably trying to calm his heart rate down. You found yourself a little surprised that you could  _ feel it.  _ How quick it was, how his blood couldn’t keep up with the contractions, the delay in his veins, the lack of oxygen reaching his brain. His vision was fuzzy and clouded darkly. You almost laughed at how hard he was trying  _ not  _ to pass out if you hadn’t been trying to keep a cool composure. 

You waited until he stopped making those  _ ridiculous  _ noises and coughing so loudly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “Are we understood, Commander?” 

“Yes,” he rasped out. You quirked an eyebrow, not satisfied, and waited silently. 

Hux’s face flushed beet red and he gulped. 

“Yes,  _ General.”  _

“Dismissed.” 

You watched as he walked out (more like  _ limped)  _ out of the command center before turning to Karrie and relaying the same coordinates you had decided upon a few minutes before. You sent her and her bomb squad leaders on their way to make the needed preparations for their mission. 

_ You could only hope you were right about this.  _

Those coordinates were a test for you. They were supposed to lead to a secret Resistance camp in Hapes that was to be eliminated by the bomb squad. The intel the First Order spies gathered all pointed to the sector of the planet that corresponded with the coordinates you chose. And although you were pretty sure about your decision, Hux’s doubt hung over your head like a rainy cloud. His argument was that the planet was extremely habitable, therefore a secret Resistance base wouldn’t risk being set up there, as their  _ sentiments _ wouldn’t allow them to put other civilians in harm’s way. But every intercepted transmission, letter and code pointed to the sector you had chosen, so you thought it best to follow the factual evidence instead of playing “Guess the Hapes Sector the Resistance is Hiding In” like Hux wanted. The more time you waited, the more time you gave the enemy, and that wasn’t an option for you. 

Frowning, you pivoted on your heels and also made your way out. Your training would start in a few hours, and you still needed to have lunch or else you’d starve. Not that there was ever anything good to eat at the barely  _ functioning  _ Starkiller Ship of Doom. At least that’s what you liked to call it. 

_ But what if you’re wrong and he—  _

Shaking your head clear of your thoughts, you whipped out your data pad and started scrolling through the list of things due for today as you turned into another hallway. 

  * _Command Ct_


  * Training


  * Meeting with Capt. Phasma



_ Stupid Hux, making you doubt yourself, with his stupid calculations, stupidstupidstup—  _

All at once, your data pad was ripped out of your hands, your waist was grabbed through your cloak, and you were pushed into a random, darkened room. The door slammed closed as your back hit the wall. You huffed out a breath and prepared to Force-break the neck of whoever decided they would be sneaky and try to kill you like this. 

But then Commander Hux’s bright green eyes stepped into your vision, his brow furrowed and his lip curled in a snarl.  _ Oh. Interesting.  _

You only had to open your mouth for him to bring a large gloved hand in front of it to smother half your face. You notice he had more than enough leverage to pinch your nose shut. He didn’t. 

_ So what did he want, if not to kill you?  _

You remained still against the wall as he fumed above you, looming with a hand over your mouth and the other next to your head. You almost saw the steam come out of his ears. Your hands, now free of your data pad (where did he manage to put that?), raised in a surrender and you arched an eyebrow at him. 

Hux tensed and then very quietly whispered: “Are you going to speak?” 

You almost rolled your eyes. Was he expecting you to _scream_? You were no damsel. The fact that you hadn’t killed him yet for _touching_ you showed you had no intentions of removing yourself from this (intriguing) interaction he wanted. He knew this was only happening because you were allowing it to happen. 

It’s fair to say that you could overpower Hux in the blink of an eye. You just didn’t want to right now. 

Painstakingly slow, Hux peeled his hand from your face. You licked your lips and faintly tasted  _ leather _ . 

Hux frowned and pulled on his dark teal uniform, trying to smooth it down to no use. Those things were as tight as corsets and creased like hell. You raised your eyebrows and waited. 

“General. You are  _ more  _ than entitled to your…  _ personal  _ opinions. No matter how much they may harm the First Order’s agenda.” 

You stayed quiet, and frankly, bored. _Did he go through all this trouble to — reprimand_ _you?_

He narrowed his eyes, and you _felt_ it again. A spike of rage inside him. His heart beat harder. His blood whooshed as it circulated faster. His lung tissue was expanding in his rib cage with furious breaths. Veins threatening to burst in his head. 

He continued with a snarl. “But what I _will not allow_ , is for you to _cower_ behind your rank and use it to—to _bully_ officers that you deem inferior _!_ Especially when those officers are _trying_ to help you to make decisions that will _benefit_ the First Order.” 

You blinked at him. In truth, you didn’t know if you should be impressed or pitiful. Maybe you should have pitied the fact that he felt he had to  _ physically  _ reign you in powerless in order to get your attention, especially to call you out on your methods of punishment. None of which would have concerned him at all if he actually had treated you with the respect you earned. 

But somewhere inside you, you found a spark that seemed to want to  _ praise  _ him for his blind bravery. Against all odds, Hux had managed to formulate a plan to get you alone scarily fast, assault you, drag both of you away from prying eyes, and (although you hated to admit it) force you into a kind of quiet submission. All so he could give you a piece of his mind. 

The mere fact that he was well aware of your powers _ ,  _ even after almost choking on his own tongue in front of the whole Command Center only moments earlier, and he still rolled the dice with death just to get you to listen to him for a minute _ ,  _ told you enough. 

_ By the Maker, the man was possessed. And he was fearless.  _

However, you were never one to back away from a fight. And he said something that truly bothered you. 

In a flash, you had him pinned to the wall right next to you with a flick of your wrist. He gritted out a  _ humph _ as you stepped forwards and turned to him, a smirk forming. 

“Did you just call me a  _ coward,  _ Commander?” 

“If the shoe fits,” he sneered. 

Your vision turned red and you pressed him further against the wall. You felt his own body’s response to it. His muscles straining against the invisible rocks, his teeth grinding together as he concentrated on pushing forwards against the current with no use. You felt the inside of his organs being compressed tightly, and then you backed off slightly, wary of feeling too much of the pain. 

“You think me a coward?  _ Do you _ ?” 

He was silent. 

You pressed again, red streaks swirling your vision, and his eyes widened just slightly when he met yours. You had no idea what he was seeing. 

_ Hopefully something that scared the shit out of him.  _

“Typical,” he spit out, “that you would choose to focus on your own pride instead of the risks of the mistakes you make.” 

“I am proud because I am  _ right. _ ” You weren't so sure about that last part, but you were intimidating him now, so this obviously wasn’t the time for doubt. 

He struggled to breathe, so you released him a bit more, and his body’s response was a mix between deflating into mild relaxation again and tensing for attack. 

“Not always. And especially not this time. You’ll see when they come back, I  _ will  _ be right. You will wish you had listened to me.” His head fell back against the wall with a breath. 

With his neck exposed like that, it was like he was asking you to choke him again, but you held yourself back; afraid you might actually kill him this time. He swallowed thickly, the muscles of his pale neck shifting. 

“I don’t listen to  _ anyone. _ ”

Hux laughed. A short few huffs, but his chest puffed out with the movement. “Except Leader Snoke. And when I relate your misjudgements to him, you will be  _ all ears _ .” 

Going right up to his face, your nose an inch from his, you held him tighter against the wall. Your eyes blurred streaky red with the  _ indignation  _ you felt being threatened like this and your boiling temper spiked. 

You hissed, “We’ll see.” 

You were out of the little closet-room before Hux could fall on the floor, with only one vengeful thought in your mind. 

_ One day, you’ll finish the job.  _


	3. Protocol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inanimate objects are unlucky when you're angry. You're working on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if the world keeps spinning according to plan, I will be updating a new chapter every Thursday!  
> Hope you're enjoying the story so far, let me know what you think!

The anger helped a little. 

Although you were frequently blinded by it. Feelings of rage, hatred and revenge swirled red into your vision, like a cloak coming down to shield your eyes. It was a strange phenomenon, considering Snoke always told you to latch onto that feeling. That it would make you stronger than anything. Unstoppable. Invincible. 

You lived in constant fear of telling him that you felt it only slowed you down. 

But this time, it wasn’t as bad. Your vision was clear. The worst had passed, back in the closet room with Hux, red worms swimming into your pupils gave you a bitch of a headache. Now, what you saw was how much  _ sharper _ everything looked. 

For example, your own sabers. The ridges and buttons and details jumped out like they were drawn over repeatedly with a pen. You ran your finger over the squared edges of the decorations _ ,  _ if you could call them that. All in all, your sabers were your most prized possessions. They were quite beautiful. 

The only red you saw  _ now _ , came from them. 

The sparks of red glow of the blades were the only thing illuminating the room. There was no other noise apart from the even hum of your instruments. They were elegant. Peaceful. Static in their chaos. 

That had been on  _ purpose _ . You felt your life was unstable enough. The last thing you needed was another headache you had to carry around with you all day on your waist. You wanted your weapons to give you a sense of stability, especially in a fight. 

You took a deep breath, focusing on the energy around the room. You felt the weight of the hilts in your hands, and you tightened your grip on them, then closed your eyes and took a step back to settle into a fighting stance. Your arms strained to hold your sabers up, the shorter one with its blade pointed behind your back, and the slightly longer one enlightening your front. 

You continued breathing deeply. Even as you closed your eyes, the light of the plasma burned behind your eyelids and you forced yourself to  _ stop feeling.  _

You don’t know how long you stayed there. Stance ready, sabers posed for attack, only slowly disconnecting yourself from your own body. 

Eventually, your headache was gone and your head felt weightless. Your ears no longer heard humming, just became deaf to everything. You continued to relax until you no longer felt your organs, until you couldn’t even feel your lungs expanding in your chest and you didn’t care if they  _ were _ . Your own heart stopped beating, the rhythmic ticking gone. Or maybe it wasn’t. But you were numb now. 

And your body was _ quiet _ . 

Incredibly fast, you spun around. Twirling the wrist in front of you, you faked a block. Then you spun again and crouched down, the blades humming in your hands. You blocked again with the opposite hand above your head. 

You tucked your head into your chest and rolled over, ending on your feet and your wrists moved to twirl the sabers again. Plasma distorted in front of you, blurring together in circles and indistinguishable shapes. 

Another twirl and you drove forwards with one saber. With the other, you flipped the blade behind you and rammed it hard into the air. Then you twisted it back and brought your wrist downwards in one fell swoop through the air in front of your feet. You grunted when you spun the whole way around to land with a double kick to our invisible enemy’s head. The sabers coming down again in front of you to form an x when your arms crossed. The blades crackled with an ugly, high pitched sound when they connected, and you held on tighter as the force of the impact threatened to push them apart. You held that x shape in front of you, and with an ease, you swished your arms back to your sides, breaking the x. 

But you weren’t done. You clicked your sabers off, the dying sound hung in the air like a wounded animal’s cry for help, and you jumped up high. Pushing your head back, your body followed in a long curve and then you landed many feet behind you, your feet sliding backwards on the smooth floor. You stanced again and then your head whipped back up, strands of hair hitting your face, you clicked your sabers back to life and didn't wince at the obnoxious sound, the blades screaming to life on either side of you. 

Twirling your wrists again, you screamed as the blades blurred your vision bright red _.  _ Then, trusting your intuition on the timing, you slammed the ends of both blades together, letting the magnet connect them into one. The impact of it shook your arms and sent pulses of pain straight to your elbows, your chest dove backwards and before you could fall, your foot slid back to keep your balance. 

Now staring at the saberstaff in front of your head, perpendicular to your body, you straightened yourself back up. Your wrist cracked and protested as you began to spin it with your dominant hand. The red lights swirled in front of you in horizontal figure eights, and you kept going faster, the even movement hypnotizing. 

When it felt like your hand might fall clean off from your wrist, you lunged forward, pointing with your staff and finally drove the blade through your invisible enemy. 

You used your momentum to slide yourself back around just as the lights turned on. 

Through a haze, you saw a figure in your doorway. She took up the entire threshold. 

_ Phasma.  _

“Why are the lights off?” her vocoder rumbled.

“Why did you turn them back on?” you gasped, out of breath. 

She shook her head, and then her visor turned down, her eyesight on the staff still lit and humming softly in your hands. Your hand shifted and you turned one of the blades off; the screeching sound made Phasma raise her other hand to the blaster rifle at her waist, hovering above the weapon. 

After a few tense seconds, you twirled your wrist and the saber followed, and then you turned it off, killing the blade and the standoff with a smile. Phasma’s hand relaxed at her side and she moved to take her helmet off as she walked into your workout room. 

Her electric blue eyes met yours and she smirked. Her short hair, almost white, contrasted strangely with her dark platinum armor and the dark walls around her. 

With the lights on, your eyes protested against the brightness as they took in the space that had become so familiar to you even in darkness. The weight rack sat in the corner left of the door. Next to it, the bench you used for lifting your weights every morning. Or every night. Whenever you couldn't sleep, which was way less often than you wanted to admit. 

Smooth black tile made up the floor of the room, giving you lots of space to train, as well as (higher than usual) black walls for a spaceship that met at a single point on the top. The room was spacious and larger than the average quarter in a ship like this. Phasma probably had to exercise at the workout center, just like any officer of a lower rank or stormtrooper. You supposed there were benefits to being the general, as well as Snoke’s apprentice. 

You hung your saber at your waist, and extended a hand. A small black towel flew into your palm.

“What are you doing here?”

Phasma set her helmet down on your workout bench. “You were late to our meeting. I figured I’d find you here. We have things to discuss.” 

“Oh.” You dried your temples awkwardly with the towel. You hadn't been training long for today, but you supposed it took you longer than usual to calm down after your round in the Command Center, so you went overtime in your schedule. You hadn't meant to keep Phasma waiting, she was one of the most reliable in the First Order, and you weren’t one to disappoint. You were about to suggest that she wait just a few more minutes until you cleaned up, so you could at least look  _ semi-presentable _ for a formal meeting with the Captain, but she must have read your apprehension on your face. 

“No need,” she spoke before you could, “I don’t mind.”

At this, you saw her eyes trail your figure. The bodysuit you wore when you trained stuck to every part of your skin, especially with your sweat, and it would most definitely be considered inappropriate to leave your quarters for a meeting wearing only this. But  _ Phasma  _ was the one in your quarters, so you guessed she would have to play by  _ your  _ rules. 

“Fine. What is this about?” You pushed at your hair, trying to smooth the pieces stuck to your face away. 

“The sector in Hapes you’ve decided to send the bomb squad to. I need to know if you are certain about it.” 

“Why?” 

She sighed, seeming a little irritated. “Because if they come back with nothing then you and I will be sent to clean up the mess.” 

_ Clean up the mess _ as in getting rid of liabilities, you realized. 

“I’d rather my team not waste our time with that. Since Starkiller is getting close to finished, we would have other pressing matters to tend to,” she said. 

Doubt crept into your mind again. How dare she come in here and question you? What was going on with everyone on this damn ship? Did they not trust their  _ own _ general enough to give the correct orders? 

You thought about the cold, hard facts and evidence that were gathered over the previous months. How it all pointed and led to a secret Resistance base hidden in the middle of that specific part of the city. Would the Resistance choose to hide in plain sight, yet put at risk what they deemed innocent lives? Or would they leave obvious clues and trails to a fake location? Misdirection was one of the oldest tricks in the game, and one of the cheapest too. The Resistance simply did not have the resources to set up a more elaborate plan.

If they did set this up on purpose, it would be to cause a distraction for the First Order. A way to deprive you of time and energy, focused on a fluke. All in the midst of the eleventh hour. 

But they couldn’t know of Starkiller’s plan, that was impossible. And besides, you had to consider the fact that you would personally be taking over the responsibility and shame if you didn’t send the bombers there, and the camp  _ did  _ exist and survived to attack or harm the First Order significantly. 

You realized you preferred to be dragged away for clean up duty, than to carry the weight of a missed opportunity on your shoulders. 

“Absolutely. I am,” you answered. 

She nodded. “And did the other officers support your decision?” 

“Most of them. Why?” 

“It’s all protocol.” —Phasma looked at you incredulously— “Should anything go wrong, we need records of who was present and what their stance was on the matter. It’s the only way of carrying out a fair punishment.” 

You gulped.  _ Punishment _ . But you were the  _ general _ for fuck’s sake. The only person that could punish you was your Master. And he needed you, he’d said. He wouldn’t get rid of you for a little slip up like this. 

However, your mind kept coasting on that outcome.  _ What if you’re wrong and he’s right and you—  _

_ No.  _

_ Stop doubting yourself.  _

Shaking your head, you told Phasma the truth, “Well, there was one person that didn’t agree with me. Commander Hux. He was pretty… defensive of his point of view.” You remembered the closet, and Hux pressing you up against the wall. 

Surprisingly, Phasma chuckled. “Hux? Don’t pay mind to him. He’s a trigger happy son of an old general who’s been moving up too fast. He’s mostly  _ inexperienced  _ in the field, where it  _ counts,  _ and probably only trying to contradict you to get a reaction.” 

_ But he  _ could _ be—  _

“In my book, inexperience doesn’t mean you don’t have natural talent.” 

“Oh no, Hux  _ is  _ talented,” Phasma’s eyebrows shot up, “But he allows his hunger for a power he doesn’t yet understand take over.” 

She was probably right. Hux has been climbing too fast, and he’s obsessed with the original foundations of the First Order. He only operates on ancient principles. He doesn’t yet understand that to rule, one must adapt. 

Unfortunately, that made him a pain in the ass. 

“Just don’t rile him up. He’ll find someone else to annoy and move on from you eventually.” Phasma read you again. You nodded, satisfied with her take on the situation and grateful that you had someone on this ship you could discuss this with. 

Phasma wasn’t your  _ friend _ , but she wasn’t trying to kill you or take your place, and that made her enough of a trustworthy ally. 

For the next few hours you sat down with her and discussed strategies for the bomb squad’s mission (of which she was the captain of, obviously), new intel your spies had gathered on other Resistance movements happening around the galaxy, the economy and enforcement of First Order law on planets currently under siege by the troops, and various other plans she needed your confirmation on. 

When she left, you were nothing but exhausted. Meetings tended to leave you like this, with a headache, a sense of crippling fatigue and a desire to flop onto the nearest bed. 

You didn't have the heart to force yourself to finish your training for today, so you left your workout room and dragged through the hallway, reaching your quarters on the opposite side. You passed the main door on the way and insured that it was locked. 

Entering your bedroom, you went straight to the freshener and peeled your bodysuit off, allowing your skin to breathe. You showered and cleaned yourself up for the night, glad to be between your warm black sheets again.

Tomorrow was another day. Another chance to try. Another day to keep going.

You frowned when you remembered. 

Another shift in the Command Center with Hux. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey.
> 
> um. 
> 
> You should leave Kudos. I mean... It's just the click of a button, super easy
> 
> Or I will break into your house and steal your favorite stuffed animal


	4. Loss For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All in a terrible, no good, very bad day. You deserve a nap.

Your eyes strained to finish reading yet another paragraph. 

This morning it was your time to hit the books. Study the lore and legends on the history of the First Order, its predecessor the Empire, the Sith and even the Jedi. 

Of course, that last part you never told Snoke. He most likely wouldn’t  _ approve _ of you studying the teachings of the enemy, but you felt it was necessary to become a better leader; a more complete Force user. Besides, there was only so much that was recorded for the history of the Sith, as most of what they did remained in the shadows, so you turned to the Jedi to fill in the gaps in the story. 

Today, you were reviewing the Clone Wars in hopes it would serve as an inspiration to help you solve the problems you dealt with as a general. You could tell that everyday Starkiller powered up, the Resistance followed, creating problems that delayed the plans. You knew it was your job to keep the order and stabilize the situation when it became precarious, but you didn’t know  _ how _ . Maybe looking at the past, you could find ways to be just as successful as the Galactic Empire, and help yourself now. 

As you turned another page, you came across what you were looking for. In the beginning of the Clone Wars, an early battle took place in the system of Toydaria between a Jedi Master and a Separatist leader. According to the book, both sides were trying to win the favor of the king to set up a base on the planet to aid in the war. They had wanted to convince the king to fully join one side, and change the system’s neutral status. The battle was harrowing—the clones of the Republic took a beating from the Separatist droids, and in the end they still won; the Toydaria system joined the Republic and their enemies were forced to escape. 

That gave you an idea. If you could do what the Separatists once failed to, perhaps you would succeed. 

You couldn't be sure if the Resistance was really hiding in Hapes, and unfortunately the First Order didn’t have any bases there—as they weren’t established anywhere on the neutral planet—but maybe with a little  _ persuasion  _ they would be guided to see that if they willingly joined the  _ correct side  _ of the conflict and provided the Order with crucial information, they would be considered heroes and allies in the war. They would at least be spared once Starkiller was ready. That had to be enough to coax them into surrender. 

You nodded to yourself, happy with your idea. You were about to put it into your schedule for discussion with Phasma, when you remembered your datapad had been  _ kidnapped _ , sadly. You figured your mental note would have to do for now, until you found it again or ordered a new one. 

Finally slamming your book shut, you ran a hand down the old leather cover, feeling the symbols engraved in it. 

Your wall datapad beeped, jolting you out of your reflections. You had to get to your shift in the Command Center. 

Before you headed out of your quarters, you put on your black cloak and fastened your belt on your waist. You hung your lightsaber at your side and started your journey to the main control room. 

It wasn’t exactly a journey, but you were crossing almost the length of the whole ship and that always took a while. Thankfully, you were never late to anything, so you didn’t mind the walk. It gave you time to ponder on the problems you had to deal with today. 

More like  _ problem.  _ And problem’s name was  _ Hux.  _

He was just too obnoxious to hang around you, especially when he insisted on contradicting your every decision. If he wasn’t careful, one of these days you’d let your saber slip.  _ Maybe.  _

But the problem wasn’t that he was so annoying. Lots of other officers in the First Order were just as irritating as Hux, if not more. Stormtroopers always got on your nerves for having reflexes comparable to turtles, and even Phasma was so  _ uptight _ and somehow neutral all the time, it was infuriating. 

Hux’s problem was that he didn’t seem to have anything to lose. He had proven this when he cornered you in the closet room; he had never feared what you could do to him. Hux’s purpose was the First Order, he had dedicated his life to it. He  _ grew up _ in it. He believed he was entitled to be the leader and so he acted like he  _ already  _ was. 

Hux was intrepid. He was audacious and outspoken on his opinions. But he was also unguarded and ignorant of the fact that you could mess things up for him  _ very badly  _ if he didn’t start to behave. 

And maybe you could show him exactly how he would come to regret his disregard for your authority. Starting today. 

Your eyes immediately found him when you walked into the command center past the short hallway of enclosed meeting rooms. He wore the same stupid,  _ hideous  _ dark teal uniform from always—it contrasted alarmingly with his red hair and made your eyes hurt. The least he could do was have a little bit of common sense about primary colors. You were lucky that as Snoke’s apprentice, you were allowed to wear whatever you deemed appropriate, instead of following the predesigned officer dress-code. This, of course, meant a whole lot of black in your closet. 

As you approached him, you picked up on the conversation he was having with another officer. 

“Why don’t the guilty troopers come and tell me this  _ dreadful _ news themselves?” 

The officer, who you recognized as one of the people in charge of the post-mission reports for the troopers by her uniform tags, gulped. “They as-asked  _ me  _ to do it, sir.” 

“Ridiculous,” Hux spat. “That is  _ not _ your job. You report in writing  _ only _ . This is a waste of your time and a disrespect of mine.” 

Although Hux was  _ rude,  _ he was also right. From what you could tell, she worked with records of missions, reports and summaries. That placed her all the way in the belly of the ship, and most of the officers there were of the lowest rank, since they held the easiest jobs. She only had the responsibility to read the troopers’ mission summary and transcribe it into the data files. There was a whole other rank for the people that came directly to the command center, face-to-face with the officers in charge to report mistakes or questions. This wasn’t her job in the slightest. 

Your best guess was that the troopers had made a monumental mistake and were afraid to own up to it. They were probably shaking in their helmets, so they intimidated a lowly officer to take the beating. When you reached out with the Force, you could feel her heart hammering in her chest, and the fear of death radiated off of her. She looked like she was about to pass out if anyone near her made any sudden movements.

“Whatever you say, sir.” 

You stopped about ten feet behind them, but Hux hadn’t noticed you yet. “I want the number of every trooper involved in the mission. Especially if they had something to do with the…  _ unfortunate accident.”  _

“Yes, sir. Absolutely.” 

“And I don’t wish to see you personally _ever_ again if there is not a _true_ emergency you need my leadership on. Are we understood, officer?” 

“Y-yes sir.  _ Understood _ , sir.” 

“Go back to your station and report this _in_ _writing_ so Captain Phasma can deal with it. Do your job _correctly_. You are dismissed.”

The officer nodded, her eyes bulging out of her head—then she scurried out of the room, looking extremely relieved to be alive. She avoided your eyes and general direction entirely as she left. That was probably the peak of her social interaction for the year. 

Hux wasn’t quite finished with his theatrics though. He raised his voice over the bustle of working officers, claiming their attention. “If anyone _else_ is found taking over another officer’s responsibility, or _worse,_ not managing their _own_ : they will be terminated. There is no space for failures, second chances or misunderstandings in the First Order. Everyone here certainly has something of _substance_ to attend to. I _strongly_ suggest you get to it.” 

_ Bravo,  _ you thought not so reluctantly as you’d expected. 

The entire room was quiet, trepidation on every officer’s mind as Hux glared at them, until they  _ slowly _ started talking in hushed whispers that soon turned to normal conversations again. Hux seemed satisfied with the reaction and with a smug grin, he returned his attention to the main table. 

Step by step you moved to stand by his side, less than a foot away. Even with your heeled boots, he was still a whole head taller than you, but you weren’t intimidated. 

Like time was in slow-motion, he glanced directly forwards—his profile accentuating his pointy nose—then to the side, to find you smirking. His usual sneer of discontent deepened. 

“Hello, Commander Hux.” 

He looked you up and down, narrowing his eyes. “General.” 

_ This was going splendid so far _ , you thought. 

“It seems you have the command center under control.” 

The corner of his mouth twitched. “As always.” 

Your eyebrows shot up, but you kept your face neutral, not amused by his arrogance. “Aren’t you  _ exaggerating _ , Commander?” 

The smug sneer returned to his face and his green eyes twinkled. “ _ Exaggerating _ , General? Absolutely  _ not.  _ I always have the command center under control before your arrival.” 

You groaned internally. _ Guess you handed him that one on a platter.  _

“Commander, have you seen my personal datapad anywhere? Serial number 11902. I seem to have  _ misplaced it _ ,” you said quickly.

Hux pinched his mouth shut, his eyes searched your face for any giveaway of your plan, but you kept it as neutral as you could, enjoying him starting to squirm. When you reached out with the Force, you felt a wave of anxiety growing. A steady pounding of blood rushing through veins in your ears. Hand muscles itching to do _ something _ . It was exhilarating to feel his panic. You felt it all as if it was your own body, but Hux was the only one worried here. 

“No,” he finally said, “I haven’t come across it at all, General.” 

You fake pouted, jutting your bottom lip out just slightly. “What a  _ shame,  _ Commander. I was so sure you’d know where it was after stealing it yesterday.” You made a point to raise your voice at the end, full of venom. 

Hux’s eyes widened and he blinked, clenching his jaw. Now he was _definitely_ panicking. His heart pounded faster as if his head was screaming _They'll know!_ and that was the only thing it could think to do. His hands visibly flexed like he’d been slapped in the face, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot; stomach twisting inside out, making him feel sick to his core with shame and anger. You realized you were enjoying feeling his pain way too much and pulled back a little, tilting your head innocently and waiting for him to find a way out of this one. 

He looked around the room, noticing the curious stares that had accumulated. People were used to your arguments with Hux by now, and some of them even found it  _ refreshing _ , but within the past couple days things had escalated to a level even you hadn’t expected. You were willing to bet they thought someone would actually die today, so their snooping was even worse. Hux blinked a few times, and then met your eyes, raising his eyebrows. 

He cleared his throat: “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about.” 

You turned away from him and started following the perimeter of the table. “ _Really_? You’d think a smart, cunning man like you, Commander, would remember apprehending their general, robbing their personal belongings and _threatening_ them over a disagreement of opinions that had already been resolved. You really have no recollection of using brute force to assault your general and steal from them?” You could barely hide your grin. 

Hux was paler than usual by the time you reached the opposite side of the table. Now only a few feet separated you from him and you leaned your gloved hands on the smooth surface, prepared to pounce. 

His mouth was a thin line of concern and his jaw muscles were aching already. You felt his entire body respond to the alarm going off in his head when you reached out to him again, gaging the reaction you saw. His green eyes were darting in all directions, and although his chest was constricted by his uniform, you could see it stretch with heavy breaths of nervousness and rage, and his gloved hands clenched in and out of fists at his sides.

_ He looked absolutely adorable like this,  _ you thought.

“These allegations are  _ ludicrous _ , General. I would do no such thing.” 

“Hm.” You clicked your tongue against your teeth. “Are you calling me a liar, Commander?” 

To his credit, Hux did his best to look offended. “No ma'am, I simply think that these accusations against me serve no purpose in helping you locate your missing possession.” 

“And what would?” 

“Maybe looking in the correct places. Who knows, you might even find remnants of a brain cell you could use during your search, General.” 

His words were like a switch had been flicked. Red was injected into your vision, dissolving in from the corners of your eyesight and you pinched your lids shut for a second, then opened them to see it was worse. “Do _not_ tempt me to see that _your_ brain stops functioning right now _,_ Commander.” 

“I'm not a  _ tease,  _ General. Surely, you think me better than to stoop that low.” Hux’s smirk only invited more red to cloud your sight. 

“Don’t try to make me a fool. You’re way out of line, Hux. And you’re walking on very thin ice right now.” you scoffed, leaning further into the table, “The only reason you haven’t already been made an ideal example for the other officers is because Leader Snoke hasn’t  _ yet _ been persuaded to see my side.” 

He raised an eyebrow, too intrigued for your liking. 

“Once he does, I’ll have your dismembered, mutilated  _ limbs  _ placed outside of the airlock to be lost in space forever.” 

Hux’s lips stopped midway through his wicked grin, “Sounds like a date, ma’am.” 

With all the dignity of a queen, you hissed: “You wish.” 

Somehow sensing the fight had come to a stalemate for today, he sighed and shook his head, “General, I’m awfully sorry to cut this short, but I do believe I have other matters to attend to. And I’m sure you do too.” Hux leaned forwards with his hands on the table, his face closer than ever, “Let me know if you do end up finding your datapad, I’d hate for that to be a loss for you.” 

“And let  _ me _ know if you find your manners, Hux. I’d hate for your arrogance to get you killed _.”  _

Hux was smirking again, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He nodded to you, then spun around and moved to the opposite side of the command center. You swallowed down your fury, willing your vision to clear up again; willing the red worms to swim away. You glanced around the room, glaring daggers at the officers who hadn’t noticed the show was over. They cowered behind your menacing stare, whipping their heads back to their work stations. 

You and Hux kept your distance and worked on opposite sides of the command center for the rest of your shift. Whether it was your idea or his, you couldn’t tell. 

When your time was up there, you caught Hux’s eyes following you as you left for your Force training with Snoke. You held your head higher as you stormed out. 

_ And he still hasn’t returned my stupid datapad.  _

You got to your workout room in record time and knelt down in front of the holoprojector. A few minutes of concentrating on calming yourself later and it whirred to life, crackling blue. Right on time, to the  _ second _ , Snoke’s image appeared before you. A gray-blue wrinkly ghost. His projection showed the area of his throne and nothing else. You never had any idea of where he actually was when you met like this. It was as tall as your wall, stretched to the ceiling, but compressed a little on the sides, making him look eerily taller and thinner. 

“Master.” You bowed your head. 

Snoke shifted in his seat, the hologram fizzled out in horizontal lines around his middle and his head—sizzling blue disappearing for a few seconds at a time. His deep raspy voice echoed in your chambers when he said your name. 

“I sense there is a… discomfort within you—” You raised your eyes to look as he tilted his head, his scar highlighted by the angle—“Would you care to explain what is the source of your... distraction _? _ ”

You looked down again, ashamed that you’d let your doubts project so strongly that even Snoke could feel them, from wherever the hell he was. Your Force connection with Snoke was intense from the beginning and had only increased in strength as he trained you throughout the years. As much as you wished you could, there were things that were impossible to hide from him. Your feelings were intertwined to his like a web, and he was the spider, plucking away at every breath or stumble. These training sessions were especially exhausting, as you felt him rummaging through your subconscious like one would dig a hole in the ground when being bombarded. He invaded your very reflection, and barely left room for independence. He stomped on the stubs of ingenuity growing in your mind, and cut their roots, leaving you susceptible to his will. 

You didn't want to face more embarrassment, so you didn't answer, but then you felt a hammer beat your head and shake your brain inside your skull. You shrieked at the pain, falling forward on your hands. Snoke continued to forcefully leaf through your thoughts, ignoring your agony. You finally relented and let him in, fully opening your mind, hoping the pounding would secede and let you breathe again.

It ebbed away slowly in sparks of pain and you groaned through it, wincing as he spoke again. “You are  _ foolish, _ child. Your preoccupation with the Commander, your colleague _ , _ is pathetic! You were raised better than this pitiable heap of  _ nothing  _ I see before me.” 

Finding your bravery, your eyes bore into his. “Well, then what do I _do_? How can I stop the cynicism?”

“ _ Help me.”  _ you seethed, growling in desperation.

“You don’t  _ deserve  _ help!” He roared, his scarred ugly mouth twisting disgustingly, “I should take you back where I found you. I should have left you for  _ dead _ .” 

“No—” 

“ _ Yes _ ! You are weak!” Snoke slammed a fist down, the hologram spasmed and crackled in blinding blue hues. “How can I expect a knight who doesn’t maintain their own significance above waste to lead the Order? You will bring us to  _ ruin  _ with your  _ private squabbles _ !”

“No! I wouldn’t. I promise you, Master.” You protested, trying to sound sure, but fear gripped your heart . 

Snoke stilled, insouciant, and looked down at you. He blinked slowly. The only sounds in the room were the spattering of the hologram and your panicked breaths. You were ready for this to be  _ it _ . For him to send you away to a deserted planet, without purpose; rip away everything you’d ever know, realize you weren’t what he’d hoped. You were ready for him to kill you right then and there, tear you to pieces from the inside out with his power. For a moment, you wondered if your death would amount to anything more than your life did. 

His voice reeked venom when he spoke: “This lesson has been  _ lost.  _ As for yourself,  _ sort it out... Do not disappoint me _ .”

You closed your eyes and breathed out in relief, “Yes, Supreme Leader.” 

The hologram died out from the bottom to the top. You opened your eyes just in time to stare into old, hateful eyes and a disfigured scar before they faded away with a whir of the projector. 

***

It must have been the middle of the night when you heard it. 

A  _ knock _ . 

At your door.

You were still awake, of course. After today’s conversation with Snoke, you were pretty sure you would have to keep one eye open while you slept for the rest of your life. You weren’t exactly sure how long that would end up being. 

You ripped your covers from your body and stepped out of bed. Extending a hand out, your saber flew to you.  _ Just in case.  _

You took careful, silent steps on your tip-toes past your bedroom and down the hallway to the main door. If there was danger out there, you wanted to keep the element of surprise. When you reached it, you held your breath, waiting for  _ something _ . 

_ Knock! Knock!  _

Air rushed out of your lungs in surprise. There  _ was  _ someone out there! And they wanted in! Or maybe they were trying to lure you out...

But who would be this far down the ship at this time of night? It couldn’t be a trooper, you didn’t need security being a knight yourself, so they didn’t come anywhere near here. 

Maybe Snoke had thought better of it and arrived to personally cut your head off.  _ No… he would send someone to execute your decapitation since he never left that stupid throne.  _

But you’d decided you would fight your way out of this. 

Your free hand hovered above the control pad on the wall. You counted to three in your head and opened the door, twirling your saber to life at the same time. 

Bright red was the only source of light in the dark hallway. Your blade was pointed right in front of you, but unfortunately, you hadn’t stabbed anyone. You stepped forward once, head whipping from left to right like you were about to cross a street. You squinted your eyes, trying to find someone in the dark hallway to kill. Then you saw it. 

On the floor, a couple feet away from you, was your  _ datapad.  _

You reeled back into the threshold of your door, startled. Your mind raced to remember anything in the dead of night and what your missing datapad was doing here. Then it dawned on you. 

_ Hux.  _

You frowned, suppressing a groan, and stepped out again. You walked further down the hallway to see if you could find him. Either direction was empty of people.

_ Guess you wouldn’t be killing anyone tonight.  _

You walked back to your door and crouched down quickly to swoop your datapad up in your free hand. You killed your saber, the dying hum sounding way too loud in the void dark hallway, and walked inside your quarters. You double checked the locked door behind you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok but I had too much much writing this chapter. Banter with Hux is always incredibly fun and has me cackling out loud and I never thought writing Snoke would scare me but it lowkey did so... I hope it gave you goosebumps too.   
> Also, Hux knocking on the door is something very personal to me and I cry about it at night hugging my pillows. 
> 
> BTW I also post this fic on (the cursed) Wattpad so if you like the format there better or it's just easier for you, go crazy. 
> 
> And finally, thank you for all the nice comments and kudos! You're all too kind. My ego is growing too fast. But really, thank you, it keeps me writing. 
> 
> See you next week... with some Phasma... perhaps??? ;)


	5. Up To You, General

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's astounding to see that everyone on the Ship of Doom is going crazy. You're getting better at avoiding people.

In a not-so-surprising turn of events, you didn’t have any proof that Hux had stolen your datapad after assaulting you. 

This you had discovered after waking up the next morning to an obnoxious beeping. It was your alarm, but it was the one from your datapad. You felt weirdly happy to hear it again. 

Curious (and not afraid because you weren’t a cat) you decided to inspect it. Maybe you’d find something out of place, a message, a picture, a thumbprint at least, that you could use to incriminate Hux. 

At first, second  _ and  _ third glance, nothing was different. The buttons were all the same, the miniscule cracks on the corners of the screen remained there; your applications, documents and storage were also untouched. It was spotless. 

That was  _ maddening _ . 

What were you supposed to do now? Hux had gotten inside your head and made you uncertain of yourself and your job. He had even been in your damn dreams the past couple of nights. Blurry, watercolor Armitage fucking Hux smiling and laughing at you while you tried to run away—but your legs wouldn’t budge, as per the usual nightmare plot line. He had truly unsettled you in a way nobody had before. 

And you didn’t have any way to get him back for it. 

You were a knight of the Sith, a Force user, General of the First Order, yet this time you were helpless to your own psychological rescue. 

You couldn’t punch your way out of this fight, even though the action had become a reflex instead of a last measure. You had grown up powerful, and you were so used to physically wriggling yourself out of uncomfortable situations, it was second nature to want to solve problems by using your best capabilities. It was faster. Cleaner. Easier to run away. And leave a body behind. 

When you started to reflect, sometimes you felt disgusted. Occasionally at yourself, and other times at Snoke for leading you down this path. Every once and awhile, you would shift the blame to the whole stupid galaxy. It was unfair you had been abandoned, your parents murdered in cold blood before you were old enough to know them. It was unfair that Snoke had to find you as a child, withering away, and that he felt guilty enough to take you with him.

You owed him so much, you owed him your entire  _ life.  _ You felt disgusted that he had risked everything the Order stood for and craved, just to keep you alive—but you turned out like this. A short fuse, ready to light anything that stood in the way for too long, on fire. A strong willed woman, who couldn’t solve her problems without eliminating them from existence. 

You supposed that's the only way you could have turned out, of course. 

The galaxy was not innocent, it had never been. And you were only one of the unfortunate victims of its errors. 

*** 

Today’s meeting was able to take place in an actual conference room, one of the many in the command center, thanks to the shift you canceled which freed up your schedule. The last thing you needed today was to see Hux. 

You weren’t really sure how to act now. Yes, he had managed to get the upper hand on you  _ once,  _ but then he had decided to play nice—and give your datapad back. Would he want a thank you? Was he looking to piss you off even more? What did he want in exchange for his one good deed _?  _

You weren’t in the right mind space to play his game today, so you just decided to avoid him entirely. Meeting with Phasma was its own adventure you had to face. 

Sitting across from each other, the long, smooth black table between both of you and a hologram of the outlines floating in the middle. It went the same as always: Phasma immediately started talking when you sat down about your previously discussed plans for the troops inhabiting certain systems, updating you on their progress and presenting the problems that had come up, which you discussed thoroughly with her. That took a few hours. 

When she was finished, you relayed your own newly made plan of attack for possibly gaining Hapes as an ally. Phasma was intrigued, but not impressed. She had probably seen this done before, but it didn’t discourage you from sticking to it. The bomb squad wasn’t due to strike for another week or so, and you assumed that would be enough time to diplomatically settle the First Order for success. You were desperate for her to agree. 

But it didn’t look like you were in luck. 

“I am sorry, General, but we just don’t have the troops for that kind of mission. You could go down there  _ yourself _ , but I’m not so sure Supreme Leader Snoke would want you to take matters into your own hands for a smaller scale operation like this,” she said, her helmet shaking from side to side, “it just isn’t possible at this stage.” 

So you were too late. Dread overtook you, anxiety gripping your heart. If your idea wouldn’t work, the only thing you could rely on now for the squad to succeed, was the scarce probability that the will of the universe would make the Resistance base materialize under the bomb before it hit. And if it appeared even a few feet to the left, you were done for. 

With another officer, perhaps you would have protested, but Phasma was never wrong. She knew everything about the missions even before they were carried out, her experience never failed, so you reluctantly trusted her judgment on this one. You felt the fight draining out of you. 

_ The only thing left to do now _ , you lamented,  _ was wait.  _

You took a deep breath. “Thank you for your input, Captain. It has been considered. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss with me today?” 

An imperceptible shake. “No, ma’am.” 

“Alright.” 

Then Phasma took her helmet off. There was an awkward few seconds where you both just sat there staring at each other.

_ This is unexpected,  _ you thought, for the millionth time this week. 

Naturally, during meetings like these— _ formal  _ meetings—Phasma would never take off her helmet. 

_ Was it a helmet? Stupid... bucket thing. _

Whatever it was called, it was dumb. You never saw any reason to wear a mask like that since she wasn’t  _ disfigured  _ in any way, but you supposed she wore it for respect. It sure worked; the troopers were terrified of her, which is why she never removed it. 

Maybe you two were becoming a little too friendly. 

But what was more shocking was how _terrible_ Phasma looked today. 

Her eyes were dimmed, none of the usual courageous shimmer was shining through, and the dark circles under her eyes made her look worse. She looked sullen and exhausted, and unsurprisingly, she also seemed angry at herself for it. You were willing to bet you didn’t look much different. Still, you decided to tread carefully. 

“What?” 

“Are you alright?” she asked. 

_ Seriously?  _

You blinked at her. “Uh, yes?” 

“Doesn’t look like it,” she frowned.

“Am I going to need to get a mask too so people will stop examining my face all day, Captain?” 

She scoffed. “No General, I only mean to say that you don’t look to be in perfect health. As in, you don't look very  _ good.” _

“Yeah? Well, you’re not really my type either.” 

Phasma rolled her eyes, a small grin forming on her lips. She turned her head towards the door of the conference room and stared at it. 

“What’s your excuse?” you finally said. 

She side-eyed you for a few seconds, then took a deep breath and smiled cynically. 

“New batch of troopers coming in within the next few months. They’ll be here right before Starkiller is finished, which means they’ll need to be the best. And I get to be the esteemed captain that has to train them.” 

“Don’t you always?” 

“Not like this,” she shook her head, “Supreme Leader Snoke has demanded that this batch be the most agile, tactical and lethal for the safety of Starkiller and the Order’s conquers. The responsibility falls to me, unfortunately.”

“I understand,” you said, trying not to sound too sympathetic. Phasma must be stretched thin at this point. But in this ship, who wasn’t?

She grinned. “I know you do. Sometimes it's a burden to be the best.” 

“Can’t disagree with that,” you chuckled. You were once again grateful to have Phasma on board. You were both women, in positions of high power, solely because nobody else could solve anything like you both could. And you understood how work could feel like an avalanche of problems sliding down to cover your body sometimes. You wondered if Phasma dealt with the same internal struggles as you about your relevance in the Order. 

Perhaps you were alone in that. 

“How do you deal with it?” 

Phasma’s eyebrow quirked. “Honestly?”

You raised your hands and gestured to the vast room. “You’re in confidence.”

Phasma took a moment to judge if you were serious and then said: “I punch stuff. I break stuff,” she smirked, “I fuck stuff.”

“ _ What? _ ”

She shrugged. “You spend all day with Stormtroppers, you start to get offers. It's a natural stress reliever.” 

“I don’t know if I should report this,” you said jokingly, suppressing a laugh. 

“I can and  _ will  _ shoot you if you do,” she licked her lips, settling back into her chair and crossing her arms, “but it’s up to you, General.”

You shook your head, almost unbelieving of this discovery and her nonchalance. “You are braver than I thought, Captain.”

“What?” she raised an eyebrow, “Like you couldn’t do it?” She said, as if being the general meant you were the epitome of all women, and that the mere notion that you weren’t getting some dick was as shameful as the Empire’s fall, thirty-some years ago. 

“As if I’d have anyone to do it with.” 

“Of course you do!” Phasma’s hand made an aggressive assertive gesture and then she ran it through her short hair. 

You rolled your eyes. “Phasma, you have the  _ entire _ First Order Stormtrooper army at your service. I work in the command center every day, where everyone is afraid of me,” you pointed a finger at her, “and I prefer it that way. And when I’m not there, I’m meeting with Leader Snoke or swinging my lightsabers at enemies that didn’t show up,” you waved your hand dismissively, “I don’t have options on dealing with...  _ it _ .” 

“What about Hux?” she said. 

You did a double take, sure you hadn’t heard her correctly. “Hux?  _ Armitage  _ Hux?”

“There aren’t any other Hux’s on board, are there?”

“Thankfully not.”   
  


“Exactly. He’s been bothering you, trying to get you riled up. You should just fuck him to help him get over you.” she said, matter of factly, as if that was the obvious answer to the square root of four. 

“Phasma. I am  _ not  _ fucking Hux!” you said incredulously. You covered your face with your hands, wondering when this conversation had gone off the rails, and trying to pretend you didn’t feel your face heating up. 

She looked at you with narrowed eyes for a few seconds then shrugged. “Fine. Good luck dealing with your stress in a more satisfying way.”

Your eyes were bulging out of your head, and you exhaled deeply. The idea of fucking someone had somehow bothered you more than if you were to actually do it with Hux. You hadn’t been with someone in years; the last time had been way before you got to Starkiller on one of the early search missions Snoke had sent you on. The memory wasn’t great, but it also wasn’t bad. You were confident enough that, given the chance, you’d  _ perform _ sufficiently. Or maybe not. You certainly weren’t willing to find out. 

And Hux was… Hux. He was your work colleague, your Commander, even your enemy at times. And he was  _ insufferable _ . He simply wasn’t an option for a quick fuck and dump. Although you admitted he had outsmarted you once, and there was an intense air of power he carried with him—and those were qualities that you somewhat respected—it only served to show his stubborn arrogance. 

If there was one thing you knew (as proven by his actions lately) was that he definitely didn’t think of you that way. Resolved with determining that he wouldn’t even be up for it anyway, you dismissed the thought completely. 

Phasma was ignorant to your internal monologue, but she stayed quiet and let you think. You had just decided to make use of the silence she allowed you by sorting your mind for any cute officers you saw around the command center when Phasma said: 

“He  _ is _ good looking for a ginger.” 

_ Oh, this has gone too far,  _ you thought. 

Your hand flew up and you pushed Phasma’s helmet off the table without touching it. It slid across, past the edge, and flung violently into the wall behind her with an ugly crack. She shifted herself out of the way expertly. 

You glimpsed the dent it left and heard her chuckle as you marched out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMAOOO this was probably my favorite chapter to write so far because it was hilarious to me. It's just my crappy humor.
> 
> And for the nerds out there, yes the new troopers Phasma is training does include Finn because I said so... 
> 
> Lemme know what you think of the story so far and what your predictions are!! Thanks for reading <3


	6. Twice The Leader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Point for... Hux? You have absolutely no idea what's happening anymore.

It was apparently the will of the galaxy, you’d decided, that wanted you to suffer. 

The day had commenced the same as any other. You woke up, got ready, trained all morning and then ate what you were pretty sure was a dead slug for breakfast. You didn’t think about it for too long. 

It was around midday when you showed up to your shift in the command center. Not that it mattered anyway. Up here, huddled in Starkiller, suspended in space, time didn’t seem to apply. Things got resolved when they did, and preferably as soon as possible. You could be a complete nocturnal compared to the regularly followed schedule in other planets, for all you knew. 

Besides, you didn’t care much for sleep. Learning and training was a better way to spend your time in the Ship of Doom. 

Lately, you had been feeling incredibly relieved. Just a little over a week ago, Phasma’s bomb squad had moved out to Hapes, destroying the precise area of your coordinates. The mission had been a success, all members coming back without a scratch and the (possible) target eliminated. When Phasma came back to report, you refrained from saying that Hapes really hadn’t seen what hit them... 

It was a distasteful joke—even though the Order was no angel—so you kept it to yourself. 

But you were so much more relaxed now that they had officially carried out your orders, without any prominent problems arising. It was refreshing to be able to breathe again. It had been over a week, so you were finally confident that the Resistance base was no more; that your orders and your judgement were correct and—more importantly—Hux’s weren’t. Point for you. 

It was certainly a boost to the ego to watch Hux’s face when they confirmed the effectiveness of the mission. Oh, how you wished you could have taken a snapshot of that moment and kept it forever. His brows furrowed deeply, and his chest rose with a furious inhale through his dilated nostrils, his shoulders came to crowd around his ears and he turned all pink. His frown twisted, lines of dimples showing, and his eyes were ablaze. 

You reached out to him with the Force and felt a staccato heartbeat, muscle tendrils shifting in his hands and arms. His head was pounding, and you rejoiced at the beginnings of the migraine you felt. It was nothing less than a victory for you. 

You had done good for the Order, passed your own personal test, and beaten Hux as a bonus. 

Consequently, your confidence when you walked into that command room for the past week had been through the durasteel roof. 

Your cloak was floating in waves behind you, you had your handy weapon hung to your belt, and (dare you say) your hair looked pretty nice today. 

It only made sense the avalanche would plummet as soon as you walked in. 

It all happened too fast. 

The doors slid open, and as soon as you passed through the threshold, multiple officers circled you, all talking at once. 

“What shall we do now, General?” 

“General, these new reports state—“ 

“General, I found evidence that—“ 

“We’re getting spikes in the—“ 

Your head whipped back and forth, spinning with confusion. There was a massive crowd gathering from all sides around you, and all of them needed you and all of them were talking too fast. You couldn’t even see ten feet ahead of you. Faces blurred, and they were suddenly all unrecognizable.

You tried taking a step, but the mass only moved along with you, bumping and pushing and pulling and handing you papers and screens to look at too fast, too hasty. 

Stressed, you shut it out with the Force, creating the strongest mental block you could think of. The anxiety in the room was rotting away at every person, and they brought it all with them when they ambushed you, so it was the only thing you could feel and it was making you  _ sick.  _

It was one thing to reach out yourself, but another one entirely to have the life energy in the room project so strongly, that it would directly affect a Force sensitive person like this. You were sure that everyone’s needs to throw up had just become yours. 

“—need a new course of action—“ 

“—Leader won’t indulge in this failure—“ 

Their pandemonium was yours. Your head was pounding and your heart was racing in a gallop and it was like a waterfall beating you down repeatedly, leaving you trapped without a way to breathe. 

Then you spotted a familiar silver mask beyond the mob suffocating you. 

You gritted your teeth, arms crossing down, and pushed them all away with the Force, like you were cutting through them with a hot knife. You parted the multitude of officers, opening up a clear path to walk through, and they all stumbled and forcibly slid away from you. 

The crowd went silent. You took quick steps straight to Phasma. She stood with her arms crossed, leaning her hip on one leg. 

“What’s happened?” you scowled. 

Phasma’s visor dipped down with her helmet, then back up, almost like she was hesitating to tell you. 

You sort of wished she never had, because her next words changed everything. 

“Hapes has joined the Resistance. They saw our operation as a declaration of war, and they’re going to be fully supporting the enemy through a military alliance.” 

_ Fuck.  _

Phasma shook her head. “General, there was never a Resistance base.” 

There was nothing you could say. Even if you had a wise response to this debilitating news, your throat was completely clogged up. And unlike the moment before, this was all  _ you _ freaking out. 

It was like you got a hole punched through you. You dropped your head and your gaze caught Phasma’s rifle on her waist. 

_ Shoot me for real,  _ you thought.  _ I failed.  _

The upgrade your pride had undergone during the past week came crumbling down. The whole facade splintered broken, and you were shown your true, pitiful colors once again. They had never left. You had hoped for that so hard, but covering them had never fixed anything. 

You were still a failure. 

And woefully, you weren’t the only one who’d noticed. 

“Ah, yes. The woman of the hour. What do you have to say for yourself, General?” 

You tilted your head to the main table, and (as always) there stood Armitage fucking Hux; smug-ass grin, arms crossed, reeking of conquest. 

The syringes were emptied, and red coated your irises. Hux’s hair was made a brighter flame. You stalked a few steps over to him, wanting to crush his skull with every passing second. 

You didn’t reach out to him on purpose. It was easy enough to guess what he was feeling, how his body was reacting to his victory over you, and so you spared yourself the torture. 

“ _ Hux,”  _ you hissed. 

And if looks could kill, Hux would be a pile of chopped off limbs on the floor, but reality was disappointing, so his smirk only widened. 

“Well? What do you think of our predicament?” Hux gestured to the officers gathering around you both to watch the show. Your hands flexed with the restraint you were exercising to not snap his neck, along with everyone else’s in the room. 

Your whole chest was screaming  _ this isn’t fair! _ Because yes, you’d made a mistake. Possibly cost the Order thousands in every currency imaginable, countless hours of training and planning down the drain. But you were a Sith knight, the general, the one with the highest rank in the room! Your reputation had been at stake too, and with your failure, you had ruined it. Perhaps forever. 

You tried to reason with yourself that these things happened all the time. This was war, after all, and operations fell apart, and people gained and lost allies, and they spied on each other and killed for the cause. A rookie mistake like this wouldn’t amount to much more than a widespread mistrust of your judgement, and although the thought of being perceived as inapt made your skin crawl, it was better than being hurled off into space. 

In oversight, this silly, small mission surely wasn’t worth this much. It couldn’t have been the tipping scale in the war...

This couldn’t possibly be as grave as you were making it to be. 

Yet another voice inside of you, tiny and obnoxious, whispered  _ you deserve this… no one will ever revere you again. You're a disgrace.  _ And you couldn't breathe, and the room was spinning, and Hux merged into one and then broke into two again and you so wanted to cut your own head off, right then and there. 

Getting blood on the spotless black floor was the least of your worries when you thought of what  _ Snoke _ could do to you. 

Okay, now that was definitely bile climbing up your throat. Before you could embarrass yourself even more in front of the officers of the entire armada, you choked out: “I need to speak with the Supreme Leader.” And you turned on your heel and sent a wave to push the bodies out of the way of the door, leaving all those ogling eyes behind you. 

You kept walking for a while, only focusing on the sound of your boots slamming on the ground. Your thoughts were hazy and flying too fast. You thought that leaving the epicenter of the attention would allow you to stop, but the cacophony in your head was beating louder with every step, and you couldn’t even see where you were going. The same black walls of the corridors of Starkiller that you saw every day were tinted red, and you were afraid you were going in circles, when you saw the outline of a drinking fountain through the haze and you stumbled to it, bending over with both hands, drinking up whatever liquid it had to offer. The surprisingly sweet taste burned its way down your throat, but you forced it down. With a few gulps later, the volume in your head subsided to background noise; crackling signals made you flinch. With a few blinks, the crimson in your vision turned pink, and you gasped out in relief, feeling your rage seep out of you slowly. 

The last few streaks were swimming away from your vision when a strong hand grabbed your arm and whipped you around, bringing you face to face with the Commander. 

Hux’s eyes were lit with an emotion you couldn’t guess, but his snarl told you enough. 

“ _ What _ do you think you’re doing?” He took a step closer, pressing himself to you. His hot breath hit your face, and you tilted your head up. 

Suddenly, you felt so fucking  _ sad.  _ You spent so much time worrying over this and trying to outdo Hux and it only amounted to your shameful failure. All of the competition was nullified. In a way, you’d both lost. 

So why did he care so much what you were doing? He should be back in there, fixing the problem you caused, getting praise for it, establishing himself as the responsible one… 

All the actions of a good leader. 

You pushed him back with only a twitch of your finger, wrenching yourself free from his grip. He took it like a punch to the stomach and skidded back, losing his balance for a second. He only seemed to look angrier.

“Go away, Hux,” you whispered with no strength to back you up. He was only here to make you feel worse, and—apart from being the opposite of productive for the First Order—it was malicious and cruel. You didn’t need that at the moment, so you walked back the way you came, making a show of bumping your shoulder into his, to find a small empty meeting room that you slipped into, for some peace. 

The door shut behind you, but when you went to lock it you found it missing that one important mechanism. It was only a few seconds before your worst fear came true, and the door opened again to reveal Hux, who had obviously followed you. He stepped in and the door slid close again. At this point, the sensors must have recognized there were people inside, so the low-level lights were turned on, barely illuminating the small area. 

You rolled your eyes at him. He was relentless in wanting to embarrass you and you weren’t having any of it. You really wished he would just go away and leave you alone to wallow in self-pity. Or cut up a wall with your sabers. 

Hux scoffed. “You think you can run away? After what you’ve  _ done _ ?”

“I’m not listening to this.” 

Hux turned his head and shook it, eyes furious, “Too bad, General, because I’m going to say it anyways.” 

You clenched your fists, “No—” 

“Because of  _ your  _ mistake, now the Resistance is allied with one of the most powerful systems in the galaxy. Do you even know what you’ve started? You’ve cost us the war! The entire  _ damn war _ !” Hux advanced closer to you.

The button was pushed again and your vision exploded red coloring, your temples pierced with pain. He needed to shut the fuck up right now.

But he kept going, step by step, coming closer to you, “And what was it for, in the end? To prove me wrong? To gain authority? To establish a semblance of superiority over me? Your childish, selfish desire to  _ win  _ at any cost has officially served to be your downfall. You are a disillusioned, self-sabotager!”

_ No! No!  _

You backed yourself up against the wall, hands covering your face, shame and resignation tightening your throat. Your brain felt like it was being stabbed, and you didn’t want to risk opening your eyes to see a curtain of opaque scarlet over your eyes. 

You had never been so incensed in your entire life. 

You missed what Hux was saying when a particularly painful jab hit you, leaving your ears ringing. Yelping, you covered your ears, eyes flying open in surprise, and your trained body’s natural response to this much pain was to shove it as far away as it could, so you did. 

Like lightning had hit, the shelves rattled, spewing papers and folders out, hitting your body. Monitor screens cracked uglily, and a bulb shattered. Hux stopped mid sentence, his eyes widened and he took the final steps, crashing into you, pressing your back flush to the wall, while his front was flush to yours—hands on either side of your head—and he crowded into your space, like he was swallowing you whole. 

Everything faded. Scratching, piercing pain rumbled in your head, spreading throughout your entire body. Your muscles quaked in retaliation, nerve endings being attacked, and trying to fight back to your best ability. You pushed and pushed outwards, trying to bulldoze the feeling of panic and hurt and devastation into specks small enough to stomp on.

It felt like forever before you heard your name whispered in a demanding, calm voice: “—top. Stop. You’ll get us both killed. Just stop it. Stop.” 

Your hearing came back slowly, his proximity and warmth somehow calming you. Sensations were coming back too, and you felt his whole body pressing into every line of yours, and one of Hux’s hands behind your head, almost cradling it. 

At that, your closed eyes shot open again, only seeing his dark teal uniform shirt, and you grabbed at his shoulders and shoved him away. You blinked a few more times, just to make sure there were no worms left, and found your vision crystal clear. 

_ How fucking  _ dare  _ he?  _

If he didn’t want you to use the Force because he thought you couldn’t control it, then  _ fine _ . You could manage kicking his ass without your powers, just fine. 

For a long moment you tried to transcend all of the resentment you felt towards him through a glare. Hux simply stood there, fists clenched at his sides, frown rivaling yours, eyes alarmed, assessing you as they darted back and forth between your eyes and your body. Trying to guess your next move. 

“What the  _ fuck _ do  _ you  _ think you’re doing?” you growled at him. 

Hux had obviously not recovered quickly. He blinked at you, like you were crazy, but also like he thought he was about to die. There was real fear in his eyes, and you were so  _ very  _ insulted. 

You let out a bitter laugh. “Did you think I was about to blow up the ship, all by myself? Do you think so little of me? Of my self-control?”

“Please—” Hux frowned and shook his head— “you’re the most powerful creature on this ship. That little outburst only served to prove what I always thought”—he gestured around him with his hand—“As with the Hapes situation, you have no way to  _ filter  _ yourself from your personal emotions. Your trivial feelings lead you to a careless leadership, in which everyone suffers the consequences! You’re ignorant and naive and in desperate need of an anchor to do the most minimal tasks.” 

“For your information, I am always in full control of my abilities. It is not my fault that you're so  _ inferior _ , you’re scared of me and my power.” Your smirk was bitter, “I can’t imagine what it’s like to be completely normal and bland, Hux. You must be in constant anguish.”

Hux narrowed his eyes, “I am twice the leader you are, you reckless bitch.” 

_ Oh, big boy words, Hux. I am  _ so  _ scared.  _

“If I am a  _ bitch _ , it wouldn't matter. And I am a  _ fearless  _ general, so don’t try to make me look reckless. _ ” _

Hux tilted his head down, condescending grin on his stupid face, dimples showing. “I think you’re mixed up. What you  _ do _ , cannot be considered... courageous.”

You let out a dry laugh, and he frowned at your next words. “You’re only jealous because you’re a spineless, wimpy little  _ shit _ , Hux.” 

He sucked in air through his teeth, and you could tell he was on the verge of falling over the precipice. “I,” Hux clenched his fists tighter, and took a couple steps toward you, “am  _ not _ .” 

“Prove it,” you said with a wicked smile on your face.

And Hux  _ flew.  _ Next thing you knew, his hands had grabbed your head and his lips were pressed to yours. 

Your mind froze for a few seconds, trying to make sense of  _ anything _ that was happening, and then it hit you that Hux was kissing you and your eyes were still open and you were ready for the scarlet shield to blind you again, but it didn’t descend and you were suddenly lost for a reaction. You closed your eyes, as if it would allow you to think better. But there was no anger coming. None. 

Your hands came to rest on his shoulders like they were underwater, his lips still moving against your shocked ones, and you felt like you should push him away, like that was the only outcome of this, like it was the right thing to do—so you tested it, applying just a little pressure on your hands, but then Hux pushed back at you with his entire frame until your back hit the wall behind you, knocking air from your lungs. 

Hux tilted his head, kissing you more fiercely, and his hands tightened around your head, entangling as much as they could in your hair. It felt like a strong, reassuring pressure encircling your skull. You tried to gasp some air in, but he took that opportunity and slid his tongue into your mouth, effectively startling you. 

Your hands fisted his uniform coat and tried to wrestle him away as you grunted into his mouth, tongue sliding with his, but he only pushed his lips tighter to yours, shoving his tongue deeper, and his hands left your hair to wrap around your wrists and hold them together in one hand. Hux raised your hands and pinned your wrists above your head at the same time that he pressed his hips into yours, grinding against you and holding you flush to the wall. 

A shiver raced up your spine. 

Your brain shut off; it decided you’d had enough of thinking things through and rationalizing. Instinct paid off better. 

Inevitably, your instinct was to roll your hips right back into his, craning your neck and chasing his lips which continued to bite and kiss at yours. 

Hux grunted in response, a sound coming from deep inside his throat, and you inhaled through your nose, seeking air that Hux’s lips denied your mouth. You were startled to also take in a pleasantly clean, dark cedar, woodsy smell. You’d never been close enough to Hux to really capture a whiff of him, but now—with his entire body pressed against you, mouth devouring yours—his scent was intoxicating. It made your head spin and something below your stomach clench. 

Your hands clenched in and out of fists above your head, Hux’s hand maintaining a tight grip on your wrists, but not enough to hurt too much. You realized you wanted him to. You wanted him to leave your wrists bruised, and for that to only be the  _ beginning  _ of it. 

His free hand detangled from your hair and traveled down, leaving your skin prickling in trails of fire. His long fingers traced down your temple, then your cheek, cupping it for a few beats as he used the leverage to kiss your harder, then down your jawline and your neck—which caused you to tilt your head up subconsciously—towards your breast, which earned him a whine from you when he squeezed it, tickling your ribs and then finally coming down to grab your waist under your cloak but over your usual padded armor uniform. He wasn’t even close to your actual skin due to the multiple layers you were wearing, but you could feel his grip, the pads of his long fingers pinching in, how much they stretched around your side, how they encased almost half of your back and how his thumb pressed close to your belly button on your front; and especially how he tightened his hold on your middle and pulled you even closer to him, making your chest swell with surprise at how big and strong his hands proved to be. 

As his tongue rolled with yours, his hips shifted forwards again, and your legs involuntarily opened a little more to allow him to fit himself closer, against your pelvis. Your eyes popped open then fluttered close again when you felt the prominent tent in his trousers between your legs, pressing and rubbing against you. 

Hux reeled his head back just a little, lips still touching yours, allowing you to breathe and gasp some air in as you panted against his open mouth. You felt his lips tug in a fleeting smirk against yours, and then he bit your lower lip and pulled on it—and when he attacked your mouth again with renewed fire, gluing his lips to yours, it hit you like an earthquake. 

His hard-on, his not-quite-enough-to-bruise grip on your body, and the very obvious fact that he was kissing you like a starved man—it was like the signal finally reached your brain, turning the lever on, sparks erupting as if it had been dead for ages. 

The only thought it created:  _ Hux wanted me.  _

It was enough to make your knees buckle and your mind to turn to mush again. 

Fortunately, Hux seemed to be able to read minds at that moment, and he held you fast before you slid down the wall in a gasping mess. Your clouded head continued to spin as he engulfed your whole body. His mouth latched on yours, one hand holding your wrists, the other caressing your body, chest heaving against you, hips pressing you upright on the wall, his tall frame towering above you. He rendered you breathless because he took up all the air in the room—surrounded you like a personal space bubble that had gotten stuck too close. He was the only thing holding you together. 

Hux huffed and groaned into your mouth again when he got another whine from you after closing his gloved fingers tighter around your wrists. The bruising pain of it was the realest thing you’d experienced in months. 

Suddenly, another tremor in your mind hit. Hux did have you pinned and caged to the wall, but you still had the power needed to send him across the room, and possibly through the wall of the ship. You imagined doing it: focusing your energy on his body, flicking your fingers and watching him be catapulted to outer space. You imagined feeling his grip on you being wrenched away, his body  _ peeling  _ away from yours, leaving you barren and cold, and his hot mouth, agape in surprise, flying away from your tingling lips. 

It rattled your insides when you realized you didn’t  _ want  _ to push him away. Not in the least. 

It struck you in the form of a question—or maybe a deep, buried need. You wondered if he was brave enough to come even closer. 

And Hux read your mind again, the hand on your waist sliding down to the front of your pants as his lips continued their assault on yours. 

Your mind spun in a dizzying, wonderful way, and sparkles set off behind your eyes as you kissed him right back. Hux had just begun working your pants open, gloved fingers somehow expertly finding their way to the bare skin of your lower stomach, when a piercing light exploded in the room. 

But it was no explosion; only the light from the hallway because the door had been opened. Your eyes met an officer’s—you recognized him as Khan Baize from the command center—and felt panic sweep over and crumble your lust; and then you finally pushed Hux away. 

His mouth detached from yours, his body lurched away a few feet and left you stuck to the wall. Your hands fell, and hung limp at your sides. 

It was like he never even  _ noticed  _ Khan had caught you two. He stared at you and only you, pupils blown until you could barely see green anymore, lips pink and swollen, cheeks as red as his hair. He stared at you like you were the only person in the galaxy that mattered at the moment, but simultaneously, like he was about to kill you because you had just ruined all the fun he was having. 

Khan’s eyes were huge and alarmed, and he stammered: “Co-commander, Captain Phasma requires your presence immediately in the control room.” 

You couldn’t even speak. Your eyes lowered down to your feet, avoiding Hux’s penetrating glare which you didn’t want to understand. The silence stretched on as nobody made a move to speak or leave. Too late, you realized that you probably should have done something to placate Khan. Explained the situation, made him swear secrecy, or at most, accidentally murdered him so he wouldn’t blab about finding the general and the commander of the First Order about to fuck in a tiny meeting room. 

You could barely process it yourself. 

But your reaction time was too late, your brain still too foggy, and Hux had already stomped out of the room, Khan following him on his heels, when you gripped your saber and ignited it. 

Red, crackling plasma filled your vision. Your other hand reached to hover over your lips; you still felt the weight of him and his taste was still fresh in your mouth. The brand new and radical memory etched it’s way into your skin. 

You didn’t feel angry. With nothing really productive to do with your saber, you turned it off. 

You only felt longing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAHAGHAHDAHSGA I like to think to myself that I am indeed super evil heehhehe  
> This chapter honestly got out of hand. I had it sort of planned and then it just... went in different directions that ended up the way it needed to be so, that was crazy, but I'm very happy with it. This fic probably exists just because of this chapter tbh, I just wanted Hux to yell at me and then kiss me OOPS.   
> LEMME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK I WAS MOST EXCITED TO WRITE THIS CHAPTER AND I WANT FEEDBACK/REACTIONS PLZZZ 
> 
> Also (and this sucks) but I'm going to stop updating for a while because I started school again (UGHH) so this is the last update for a bit. I have a few more chapters written but I didn't want to leave it hanging once they were up without having more done ahead of time because that's how I work best, soooooo please forgive me but I'll return as soon as I can and it might be in a few months IM SORRY!!  
> Don't worry, I will come back and finish this fic no matter what because I happen to have a God complex with it and I can promise this book will be finished. One day. 
> 
> I will continue to be active on AO3 (bc I can't live without fanfiction) so just comment or message me (can we do that here??) if you want, I don't think anyone will, but I'm just promising not to disappear. I'll be lurking. 
> 
> FINALMENTE: thanks for reading (all that) this chapter. Hope you liked after all I put you through. <3


	7. Correct To Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of scenery is always nice. Too bad it’s cloaked in your shame.
> 
> TW: vague self-harmful thoughts mostly towards the end

Everything seemed insanely normal, for how messed up it truly was. 

You had departed with Phasma’s team the next day to Hapes. 

Under whose orders? 

Hux’s. 

Who else? 

He sent you all away to clean up the  _ situation _ in the—now—technically enemy planet. 

Because of the hostile stand Hapes took, you and Phasma were not able to just waltz in aboard a ship that screamed “First Order,” or you’d get shot. This operation had required a bit more stealth. 

You opted for normal civilian clothes as you rode into Hapes inside what you’d lovingly determined was a trash compactor. You exchanged your fine black cloak for a long, beige, poncho looking thing that smelled funny, and you wore your workout bodysuit under it to leave you flexible. Your belt, with your sabers, stayed hung to your hips, hidden under the poncho until they were needed. 

On the first night, you had set up a small camp outside of the main city, where you’d be going into the next morning. You and Phasma got your own, high level tents, and the rest of the team bunked together. 

You were reluctant to admit that yours was bigger than hers. It didn’t feel fair. Phasma was the one that devised the plan this time, she was the leader, and she had made it very clear that you were just here as the last resort if everything went wrong. Part of you understood, since you were the only one on the ship with the “fire swords” and power to move things, but part of you felt this was Hux trying to get you out of his way for a few weeks. It was nice to be needed, but not when you were undermined. 

The tent was about half the size of your bedroom on Starkiller, which still made it huge. It fit a military sized bed with an extra mattress, a portable freshener, a desk that took up an entire wall (you didn’t have any papers to put on it) and a small, complete cooking station that ran half of the opposite side wall of the desk. Everything was either black or camouflage colored, but you didn’t mind since your interior decorating skills probably wouldn’t have done any better. 

It was much more than you needed, frankly. You gave Phasma a look after it was set up, almost asking her if she wanted to switch, but she shook her helmet in denial.  _ Okay, then _ , you had thought,  _ Just don’t complain you don’t have a kitchen.  _

It was the fifth night, and you were laying in your bed now, after an exhausting day of picking up pieces that were left from the bomb and any evidence that might be used to incriminate the Order from the site it hit, the city and the outskirts. You didn’t know why you were so tired, you had had it easy compared to everyone else. Halfway through the day, your mission shifted to going into town and questioning the people for any valuable information. 

You posed as a traveler just passing by, a homeless woman, a journalist reporting on the attack, the family of a victim of the bombing, and as a Resistance officer undercover on a mission. Although it was a little thrilling at first, it quickly got very tiring to pretend to be someone else. With your powers you could sense the emotional response of everyone you questioned, so it was relatively easy. You recorded everything, transcribed it, and uploaded it into Phasma’s files. The first part of your job here was done. 

So, with nothing else to accomplish today, you retired early, and laid on your bed, staring up at the stars above you. You had been messing around with your fancy tent applications and discovered a one-way see-through ceiling mechanism you were eager to try. 

_ Bet Phasma didn’t have this.  _

You watched the sun set and the stars come out one by one, illuminating the sky. 

For a minute, you wondered if you could see Starkiller from down here, and your eyes lept from star to star trying to find it. You quickly realized it was useless, since they had the invisibility turned on, so the ship was undetectable, especially with the naked eye. 

You were surprised to find you were  _ glad _ about that. Maybe taking a break from living your days in the Ship of Doom was just what you needed. You were strangely… content, down here. 

A real planet. Real ground and food and  _ air _ . Air that wasn’t recycled to smell like a detergent. You inhaled it deeply, smelling the eroding ground, the trees, the  _ life.  _ Normal people. Sounds of a lively market, and vehicles chugging and revving down the streets; and a loud band at a party. 

It all felt so foreign. When was the last time you had been around such normalcy? You remembered that once upon a time, when Snoke had delivered the news that Starkiller was ready for boarding, you had said goodbye to this life. You had been  _ glad  _ to be rid of it. It was strange to realize how much you missed it. 

You liked the fact that the people didn’t have deadlines, or that there wasn’t a bigger agenda to get to. You liked seeing them worry about the little things, like fruit prices, a birthday, a hair appointment. It was so nice to not have to think about the big picture, but focus on the tiny meanings of why life is worth living. It was nice. 

Being down here, amongst the life surrounding you, it had made you calmer than you’d felt since… 

It didn’t matter. This was exactly the point of it all. While the subjects worried about meaningless ventures, the leaders of the galaxy focused on solving the bigger, more important issues. 

This is what the First Order was for. 

These people, their families and pets, had no idea what was at stake. This is why they  _ needed _ the guidance of the Order. It was the only way to prevent chaos. 

And the responsibility fell on you to lead them. 

A beep from your datapad pulled you out of your thoughts. 

You reached over to the nightstand and picked it up, opening the notification. 

It was Snoke. 

You scrambled out of bed, turned on the projector you brought with you and knelt on the ground in front of it. Only when Snoke’s blue image appeared in front of you, about real life sized, fizzling in and out of frequency, did it hit you that this was probably a really bad idea. Snoke  _ knew _ . He had to. And you were as good as dead. 

“Master,” you whispered, keeping your head up and staring at him. Your plan was to pretend there was nothing wrong until you couldn’t anymore, and then you’d die with dignity. 

His projection blinked at you, slowly. His scarred hole for a mouth twisted with a cynical smile. Your stomach flipped uncomfortably, fear and anticipation starting to rise, sounding alarms off in your brain. You breathed in and out. 

“It appears you were right,” was the first thing he said.

_ Sorry, what? _

“Uh. I’m not sure I… follow.”

Snoke leaned forward in his throne, long bony fingers gripping the ledge. “Your comrade, and his...  _ mistake _ . You were correct to doubt him.” 

“How did you—”

“Hux took responsibility for the blunder he caused. And he received… the due punishment.” Snoke sat bat in his chair, completely relaxed. 

You, on the other hand, not so much. Apart from the sheer confusion your mind was trying to wrap around and piece together, you only knew one thing. Snoke was  _ wrong.  _ The plan had failed because of  _ your  _ orders, and for some reason, Hux had apparently taken the fall for it. You were shocked. 

“Is he—” 

“He will live. To not do it again.”

You let out a breath. You didn’t know why you were slightly relieved that he kept Hux alive. “How can we fight back? How should I proceed?”

Snoke tilted his head. “I wouldn’t worry too much, child. Hapes is only a  _ speck— _ ” he, raised his hand in your face and pinched his fingers together “—in the grand scheme of the war. Our plans will not be delayed significantly.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Continue as scheduled, my dear apprentice. Everything is falling into place. Just as it should.”

You nodded. 

“Additionally”—Snoke raised a finger at you, his robe creased with the movement—“I am giving you the power to overrule a majority vote. A…  _ veto.  _ If you will. Although Hux’s mistake was minimal, I will not allow it to happen  _ again.  _ You have the responsibility to be the final judge of the decisions, from now on.”

It was as close to a “good job!” as you were going to get. Your chest filled with pride and excitement. You knew you didn’t deserve it at all—that Snoke was rewarding you based on a lie—but this was another chance to prove yourself. And you were taking it no matter what. 

“Thank you, Supreme Leader,” you bowed your head in reverence. “I will not repeat the same errors.” 

Snoke stilled. His hologram froze and crackled. Cutting out in lines across his face and chest, distorting him. When it came back, in the blink of an eye, he had shifted his hand to rest his chin on it, head tilted to the side. His leer was eerily malicious. 

“ _ Some _ errors… must repeat. Child.” 

With a wave of a skeletal hand, he was gone.

***

It was difficult to  _ not  _ think about Hux after that. 

Your thoughts wondered to him and why he would take the blame for you, in the middle of the night. You laid awake and theorized about what this meant for you. Would he want something in return? Was this part of a bigger plan of his? What did he truly get out of this? 

The news left you dreading a return to Starkiller in a few days time. Over having to deal with Hux again, and over coming back to that stale environment. You sort of wished you could stay in Hapes. 

Feeling sad about leaving, you’d decided you would take advantage of the time you had left here. Whenever you could, you would sneak over to the city, go to a bar and sit down for a drink after wandering around a market and having some  _ real,  _ fresh food. 

You liked sitting in a booth in the corner and watching the bartender serve drinks as all sorts of creatures sat around the bar. You watched the couples, some seemed made for each other, others felt uneasy together. You could feel it all, when you opened yourself up to it. It was scary but addicting at the same time, to receive so much feedback from the life energy around you. 

Some were at the bar to meet others, make a deal or buy a ship. Two bounty hunters came one day—that was an interesting scene to watch. A clumsy waitress spilled drinks every time she tried to go up a certain step. A group of young boys tried their first real drink. Their emotions, their worries and hopes bounced off of you, entertaining and fulfilling. It gave you a chance to push your own problems to the back of your mind, and allow these new thoughts to pass through and keep you occupied. 

It was fun while it lasted. 

On the second to last day, you’d dressed in your formal clothes again for a meeting with the queen of Hapes, and her council. With their taking a stand in the war, you’d have to sign the official declaration of war between their planet and the First Order. The second part of your job here. 

It all felt weirdly pretentious for such an act of aggression. You were both going to be pledging to kill each other, yet you were required to sit down and pretend to be diplomatic and respectful, and sign a paper that broadcasted your mutual hate to the rest of the galaxy. 

You’d decided politics made no sense. 

Sitting in front of the current Queen Mother, Jessalyn Terra, and her Consortium, you felt that hate like never before. 

The title of Queen Mother was passed down hereditarily to the women in the family, and if there were only sons, the wives would be crowned. This young woman was no wife. She directly descended from a long line of queens in the constitutional monarchy. And she acted like one too—as she should. Long brown hair fell in soft waves across her shoulders, half of it pinned up in an elaborate bow on the back of her head. Her crown sat snugly in front of it, framing the hairstyle. Her long dress had various ruffles and was green with yellow accents on it, representing life. With piercing, commanding green eyes, and a healthy pale complexion, she was very beautiful, and the way she held herself as an established queen and leader made her shine even more. 

You felt a pang of jealousy at her unwavering presence as a leader. She was in charge of the room, and everyone knew it. 

Queen Mother Jessalyn stared down at you from her cabinet, a few feet on top of the ground, where you were sitting surrounded by a circle of her council members. 

The way she looked at you reminded you of Phasma. That same determined, take-no-shit, fierce stare on a carefully crafted, neutral face grounded you where you sat.

You stared right back, remembering you were just as powerful as her, and then there was a moment when you both reached the same conclusion. She nodded just slightly, urging you on. 

With a heavy heart, you picked up the pen given to you and cast your eyes on the paper documents sitting in front of you. Blank dotted line at the bottom. 

You filled it with your full name, and your rank.  _ Senior General of the First Order.  _ You stared at it, ashamed. 

Declaring war, pledging violence and death on a planet like this, on a planet you’d come to  _ appreciate  _ and  _ admire _ , made you feel disgusting. It was a promise to destroy every single thing you’d enjoyed being a part of and watching the past week. And you knew what Starkiller was for, you knew it could and  _ would  _ turn all those wonderful, trivial bits of life into dust. Into nothing. 

You were also declaring war on the Queen Mother herself. You were making her the enemy. You'd sit back and kill her people, destroy her resources, and torture her children, and she’d sit back and watch it happen and try her best to fight back, but in the end, you knew she’d lose. And it was the most unfair,  _ depressing  _ feeling, to know how this would end. It was warped and perverse. And you were right in the center of it. You were the very reason for it. 

Everything you’d done had led you here, and would lead them—these innocent people—to even worse outcomes. 

Queen Mother Jessalyn was solemn when you tore your eyes off the pages to look up at her again. She blinked, and you caught a sadness in her olive eyes, but it was gone immediately. You were numb. 

“Thank you,” she said. And her voice rang with confidence in the vast room.

She had  _ nothing  _ to be grateful for. You wanted to apologize, but your throat was tight, so you just hung your head, stood up carefully and left the room, feeling loathsome stares stabbing you in the back. 

Phasma was waiting for you outside, where she was guarding the door with a small team of troopers. For once, you wished she wasn’t wearing her mask, so that you could find some comfort in her blue eyes. She nodded to you. You gritted your teeth and took a deep breath, and soldiered on, trying not to think about the fact that you had just signed a death sentence for an entire planet and their star system. 

*** 

With all of the evidence gathered, the citizens investigated and the  _ liabilities _ taken care of, you headed back to Starkiller Base early the next day. 

No amount of sleep could have prepared you for what you could come back to, so it didn’t matter that you hadn’t slept for more than two hours. You just wanted to come back to a place where you weren’t considered the number one enemy. 

But after the way you left things, you weren’t sure if your enemy status within the halls of the Ship of Doom had changed at all. You could only imagine what Hux had done in your absence, how he’d put people against you. You were apprehensive as you disembarked the ship that had come to pick up Phasma’s team, taking in the familiar sounds of your boots hitting the polished floor of the bay, and watched as the troopers ran around, not sparing you a glance as they did their jobs. 

Phasma descended the ramp to stand next to you, and you looked up at her. 

“We’ll debrief on what to do next when I go over the data,” she said. 

You nodded, then made your way to the exit. Phasma called back to you: “General.” 

Stopping short, you only looked back at her over your shoulder, watching her cross her arms and tilt her head. 

“Cope,” her voice echoed in the cargo bay, and you felt your face heat up with shame. You whipped your head back and powered through the door and down the halls of the ship. Something was stuck in your throat and you felt mortified at the panic welling up in your chest. Your hands were shaking, breathing turning erratic and your temples were sweating. You felt like a monstrous, dishonorable failure. 

Your vision tunneled to where you wanted to go, and you walked faster until you reached the door to your quarters, your hand gripping your saber tightly the entire time. You didn’t know what you were going to do, but you had the growing feeling that if you walked in, it wouldn’t end well. You didn’t feel strong enough to stop yourself. 

Punching in your code, you slithered in past the barely open door, and then slammed your hand on your door pad, breaking it. Electricity crackled, wires exposed, and the once smooth, bright screen died down. The door slid back, locked shut. 

With nowhere to escape, you turned into the hallway that led to your bedroom and when you stepped in, your pained eyes met a tall figure, dressed in dark teal, with their back to you, standing at the foot of your bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who celebrate, this is my Christmas gift to you!! Merry Xmas and Happy Holidays!!!!! <3333
> 
> I’m so sorry for being gone all semester, this chapter has been written for a few months now and I’m sorry it took so long to post it. But here it finally is, I hope you enjoyed it! I’m not sorry about the cliffhanger!!!!!!!! 
> 
> I can’t promise I’ll be updating every Thursday again, but I’m on break right now so I’m going to sit my ass down and catch up on this as much as I can. I haven’t written anything for it in months and I miss this story tremendously. Ok too sappy STOP JFHSHHS
> 
> Thanks for reading! See you next time.


	8. Prove You Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the universe takes a hasty turn left. You weren't expecting this. But maybe you were. 
> 
> TW: again, vague self-harmful thoughts in the beginning. NSFW !!!!

Perhaps the most unsettling thing about finding Hux in your room was how your vision didn’t cloud red, how crimson didn’t explode and blind you from the colors of the world. Everything looked the same—and you didn’t expect to be able to  _ look.  _

You wanted to feel angry, even  _ expected  _ it. You wanted it so badly; to feel unstoppable and immovable. You wanted to feel like you could destroy anything. But you were numb and empty. Disoriented. 

Everything was still. 

Hux turned around slowly, face completely neutral. He turned off whatever he was looking at on his datapad, and set it down on your desk. 

“You’re back,” he said. 

“Yes.” 

His eyes narrowed and he eyed your saber in your hand, his brows furrowed and he swallowed. Hux raised his arm slowly, as if not to spook you, and took off his matching dark teal officer cap, brunching it in his hands. 

With his hat off, you spied a still fading bruise and a healing cut on his hairline. Your body melted from its frozen state, and it all came back to you in a soft gasp. 

_ Hux’s kiss. His sacrifice with Snoke.  _

_ Hate.  _

_ Desire.  _

Everything you’d been keeping at bay, ignoring for weeks, pushing aside every time your traitorous brain dared to think of it. It slapped you in the face. 

This was  _ something.  _ And there was no way to run away from it or kill it. This  _ something  _ had already started, it had already established itself, settled into your life, rooted its claws deep, a long time ago. You were breathless as you concluded this  _ something  _ had only just begun. 

You blinked, snapping yourself out of your memories and reflections, hoping you looked more composed than you felt. “You shouldn’t be here. You’ve got nothing to do here.”

He didn’t say anything. 

“You need to go,” you shook your head, feeling the first sparks of rage set off inside of you, deciding to feed it. “You need to leave. Like now. You’ve no business here.” 

“I  _ do  _ have business here.” Hux looked genuinely offended. 

“Get out.” 

His eyes were wary, dimmed dark green. “If I may—”

You just couldn’t look at him anymore. “ _ No _ . You can get a mission report from Phasma, I’ve got nothing to do with that. Thanks to  _ you _ .” 

Your mouth kept talking, rambling. “That’s out of my hands, Hux. It’s not my problem anymore. So just leave me alone about it. I was  _ wrong. _ I get it!” 

Hux said your name, interrupting you: “Put it down.” His head dipped, and you followed his gaze to your saber. 

Crackling and humming and red,  _ bursting  _ with its life in your hand. You couldn’t remember when you turned it on. 

You dropped it like it had burned your palm, the blade recoiled when it hit the ground, leaving a smell of plasma in the room. 

Maybe you’d lost control. Maybe you’d become a danger to yourself and others. Maybe you should have just done whatever you wanted to do before you arrived at your quarters. 

Before you saw Hux.

Panic spread inside your chest like vines, wrapping around your throat and squeezing. It turned into irritation. You forcibly swallowed, staring at the saber that fell to your feet and rolled away, between you and Hux. 

Hux was so still, he could have been a statue. His shoulders were crowded up, and his hands were clenching his hat until his knuckles turned whiter than his usual paleness. His brows were furrowed, eyes moving across your face, studying and cautious. His plump lips were almost purple with the cold air of the room. The only sign he was alive was the steady rise and fall of his chest, the slight shift of his uniform jacket. 

You couldn’t understand why he was still here. You didn’t know what he wanted. In a desperate attempt to find out, you brought down your mental block and reached out to him. The discovery was  _ astounding _ . 

Hux’s heart was beating incredibly fast for how still he was standing. From the outside, he looked close to a cold corpse, but  _ inside _ , his blood was hot and churning through his veins, racing through his body. His muscles were working overtime to keep him rooted in place. You felt him becoming ready to pounce, his body preparing him for attack. You felt his alertness. You felt his apprehension. 

And then Hux’s eyes darted to your mouth, his stance widened. He let his hat drop to the ground. 

The air in the room shifted. 

You felt determination. 

You felt lust. 

You let out a slow breath. 

_ Oh no.  _

“I think it’s best if you leave,” you said in one breath. 

The feeling just barely touched you, bringing tingles to your body, and you brought up the wall again, effectively blocking him and any person within a mile of you. Your powers were starting to become too distracting, and you had been working hard on keeping them in check. It came in handy when Hux was this close. 

Hux set his jaw, his eyes flicked to yours, suddenly bold. You felt a shiver just from looking at him. 

“No,” he said, tilting his head. “I don’t think you want me to leave at all.” 

“You should leave,” you breathed. 

Hux took two steps forward. 

“Say it then. Say you want me gone, and I’ll leave right now,” he challenged. 

How was he keeping you stuck to the ground? How was this happening?  _ Again _ ? 

Scenes and sensations of what happened before you left two weeks ago flipped through your mind. It sort of scared you that you didn’t know if you should let it happen again. It scared you more to think that you couldn’t— _ wouldn’t  _ be able to stop it—if it did. You felt too irresolute to make a decision. 

“You should—” 

“I should only do what I want,” he interrupted you, eyes twinkling, “and so should you.” 

_ I want you closer.  _

Your face gave you away, and the corner of his lips turned up slightly. He took another few steps. He stole another, passing your saber on the floor, coming within a foot of you. He stopped there. 

“Hux—” 

“Shh,” he hushed you. He took another step. His body just grazing yours, your head tilted up to follow his eyes, entranced. He towered above you and smelled like a sort of default soap, and dark cedar from faraway woods. It made your mouth water. 

He was completely serious as he brought his face closer, painstakingly slow. You closed your eyes. 

Hux pressed his lips to yours. Barely touching. His bottom lip fit perfectly between yours, and the contact sent a current of electricity through your bodies. He pulled back and looked into your eyes, trying to find something there. 

The hair on the nape of your neck stood up when his face opened up, green orbs reigniting. You were so close, you could watch as his pupils enlarged. 

Then Hux grabbed the back of your head with one hand, and kissed you again, ferociously. His other hand came to wrap around your middle, pressing your bodies together. Your body burst with warmth. 

Your hands slithered up his arms to clutch at the back of his shoulders and you felt his muscles shift underneath his jacket as he pulled you even closer against his body. The arm behind your back gripped you incredibly tight, giving him leverage to kiss you hard. Hux ravaged your lips, pushing your head back with the force of his kiss, almost bending you backwards. The only things keeping you from falling flat on your ass were his hands—one tangled in your hair, the other wound tight around your body, gripping you like you’d disappear. 

Hux bent forwards with you, keeping his chest pressed to yours. His lips smacked with yours, his hand brunched in your hair and pulled on it just slightly. When you whimpered in response, Hux huffed into your mouth, and ran his tongue along your bottom lip. He had just started peeking his tongue into your mouth with another kiss, and his other hand had just started to make its way to your ass when you realized where this was going. 

Within the same second, Hux had landed at the foot of your bed, across the room. He stumbled back up from the ground, standing upright again. Hux didn’t look one bit surprised. In fact, he looked smug. His lips had regained some color to them, light pink, cheeks red and eyes trailing your body with a fire you wished you didn’t recognize. 

Hux’s face was dimpled from his amused smile, chest puffing. He made you want to run away. 

But you felt like you should assert some sort of dominance here. Right now. You should  _ definitely  _ put a stop to this. 

“You can’t do that,” you raised a finger at him, trying to regain your breath back. 

“I told you.” His eyes trailed your figure. “I do what I want.” 

“What about what I want?” 

“Well, there’s no need to lie. I know you want the  _ same.” _

_ StupidfuckingsmugbastardI’mgoingtokillyou—  _

You walked forwards, closer to him, cloak flying behind you. “You have no  _ idea _ what I want! Who’s to say I don’t  _ want _ to kill you right now, Hux? Who’s to say I won’t?” 

Hux’s cheeks dimpled even more with his laugh. “You do. Your  _ eyes. _ ” 

“You need to stop assuming you know anything about me,” you shook your head, hoping that what he’d said was completely wrong. Hoping the doors to your soul hadn’t given you away completely. A distant part of you knew he had already seen too much. 

“Until you let me, the only other option is to assume.” 

You groaned, exasperated with this conversation already. “Well, tough luck, because the two times you’ve come onto me are all you’re going to get. Forget your assumptions and get used to disappointment.” 

Hux’s smile fell a little. “So you’re saying you would have stopped me then, in that meeting room, like you did now? You would have done the same?” 

You took another step forward. “Yes.” 

“Did you think about what would’ve happened if that officer hadn’t walked in?” 

You tried your best to sound sure. “No.” 

Hux smirked again. “Really? You didn’t think about how I already had your pants open? How my fingers would… feel?” 

You felt your face heat, the unwanted memory coming back. His fingers skimming your skin, gripping you, touching you, lighting your skin on fire. Awakening something in you.

“You didn’t even spare a thought about what might have come next?” 

You gulped, not missing how his eyes followed your every move, smirk widening. This was becoming increasingly harder with every second that passed. You couldn’t tell if you were resisting just for show anymore. The  _ interruption  _ had been plaguing your mind for weeks, making you question if you hated Hux for getting under your skin or if you hated Hux because he was a good kisser. 

“It—It should never have happened. It’s prohibited.” You settled. The words felt completely forced. 

“Some rules ought to be broken for mutual benefit, I gather.” 

_ Wait. Now, he’d brought up an interesting point.  _

“Hm.” 

Your feet took you right up to him, as close as you were when he’d kissed you. You were able to smell him again, and you gritted your jaw against how pleasant it was. 

“You sound  _ so sure _ about my  _ personal  _ benefit.” Now you were smirking, challenging him. His words, his smell, his hungry eyes making you bolder than you felt. 

“Should I not be, General?” 

“You tell me, Commander. We didn’t get that far last time,” you tilted your head, blinking up at him. 

Hux grinned, his hungry eyes examining your face. He wound his hands behind you, pulling your body to press against his; your neck craned back to look him in the eyes, his hands burned at your lower back. 

Hux licked his lips, then brought them down to the shell of your ear. He whispered: “You mean… we didn’t have the  _ pleasure  _ of getting that far.” 

You couldn’t help yourself. You laughed. It came out as more of a  _ giggle  _ than you intended, so you tried to remedy it. 

“You smug fucki—”

You were so  _ rudely _ interrupted by Hux kissing you again. His lips claimed yours just as harshly as before, a bruising immovable force, paralyzing you. Your hands grabbed at his forearms, regretting your gloves and his uniform jacket. Suddenly, you wanted to feel his skin. 

Palms slid up to grab at his shoulders again, and you felt him tense, probably expecting you to push him away again. But he was prepared for that, it seemed. 

Hux grabbed your wrists again, quicker than you expected. Then he spun you around and walked you back to the wall next to your desk. Hux pressed you against it with his whole body, pinning your wrists above you by slamming them against the wall. You gasped out in surprise and he tilted his head and leaned into you, licking into your mouth and entangling his tongue with yours. Your whole body trembled with the filthy kiss, not even close to thinking you should run away from him. This—for as wrong as it probably was—felt too  _ good.  _ You wouldn’t dare to interrupt him again. 

Hux continued to kiss you as he slithered a hand down, grabbing and caressing at your body, pulling your hips closer to his with a grip that made you whine into his hot mouth. 

He reeled back just an inch from your lips and breathed out: “Feel familiar?”

Your knees almost buckled at his raspy voice. He may be an asshole, but you had to admit, he could turn a girl on. 

Hux didn’t wait for you to answer, just smirked and kissed you again, shoving his tongue back in your mouth. He had started to feel so warm, the hold on your hands secure like handcuffs, his tongue exploring and caressing yours like a spreading wildfire, that you jumped a little when you felt his gloved finger tips skim you lower belly. He had somehow already undone your pants amidst kissing you stupid and you didn’t even notice. 

You yelped into his mouth and he moved his hand up quickly, under your armor, pressing his palm on your bare stomach and spreading his fingers. His hand felt huge against you and you shuddered. 

“Hux, wait—” 

“You’re so goddamn  _ difficult _ . So rude. So  _ bitchy _ .” Hux didn’t let you finish as he hissed into your mouth, between smothering languid kisses. His hand rotated, fingers coming to point down and fingertips nudging under the open waistband of your pants. Your entire body shook at his dragging leather touch, inching closer to the line of your panties. 

In retaliation to his unnecessarily mean words, you chased his mouth, biting down on his lower lip until he broke away with a growl, green eyes starving. 

“That makes two of us,” you whispered. A lazy smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

Then Hux grimaced, tightened his death grip on your wrists, and shoved his hand into your panties. You gasped out and involuntarily threw your head back. Your crown hit the wall behind you so hard, you winced, sure that it would leave a bruise. His fingers covered your mound entirely, and the simple touch felt monumental. You closed your eyes, and rolled your hips just slightly wanting him to make good on his promise and open you up and touch you  _ for real.  _

It was embarrassing how much you wanted to feel him inside you. 

Hux was grinning, watching your face for every movement and twitch, a stray piece of flaming red hair getting loose from the gel it used to be slicked back ridiculously tight in. His leather hand dragged up and down your pussy, just caressing and dragging and pulling, setting fire to your sensitive nerve endings. The seams on the palm of his glove caught and rubbed against your clit just right, and  _ oh _ , you were definitely wet now. 

Hux had moved his head to crowd at your neck, after wrestling your collar down as much as he could with his teeth, and if his mouth felt amazing against yours, it felt  _ even better  _ attached to your neck. He pressed kisses and sucked spots that would surely need an extra high collar next time you went out. You whined, arms jerking in his strong hold, when Hux bit at your neck, worrying the sensitive skin in his teeth. 

Hux decided to stop teasing and he slowly parted your folds, earning him a choked gasp from you, as he continued nipping your neck full of bruises. 

“You’re a liar too,” he whispered against your skin, voice so close to your ear it gave you goosebumps. 

“You said you didn’t think about me when I  _ know  _ you did.” His fingers stroked your folds, spreading your wetness, coaxing more out, feeling you intimately. This was getting to be more than you could handle, and you were already a gasping, whining mess, too turned on to think about anything but his delicious bruising kisses, one of his hands taking control of you, and the other starting to push his middle finger into you. 

When you moaned out in pure pleasure, feeling his long digit sink into you, dragging against you walls, Hux snickered, biting your earlobe. 

“I thought about it too, you know. How I was going to get you screaming for me, back then. If I didn’t have to save the day, I would have killed that officer and spread you open against that wall and  _ fucked you  _ ‘till you were  _ screaming, _ ” he said into your ear. 

Hux pulled his finger back out, then harshly plunged it inside you again, and your mouth fell open in a soundless shout. Your eyes squeezed shut when he started moving his wrist and dragging his finger in and out faster. Your head lolled to the side as Hux continued to bite the flesh at your neck. He was crowding you so much, holding you upright, susceptible to his will, and yet you still felt like he wasn’t in complete control. You didn’t just need to cum at this point, you needed to let go. Fully leave it up to him. Maybe he was holding back. He wouldn’t be for too long. 

“Not then. And not now. I’d never—scream. For you,” you provoked. 

Hux bit at a spot on your neck until you yelped, shaking his mouth off. His finger stilled deep inside you, and he crooked it, making you groan. He dragged the tip of his tongue up your neck, the abused patches of skin prickling, and then he pressed his forehead to yours, pushing your head back against the wall. Your eyesight blurred from how close he was. You just saw  _ greengreengreen. _

“Yet again,” Hux clicked his tongue. “I’ll have to prove you wrong.” 

That’s when you felt a second leather finger prodding your entrance, slowly breaching you open. You moaned loudly as you felt him sink in to the knuckle, arms twitching in his grip. 

“Hmm? How’s that feel?” Hux rasped, kissing across your face and down your neck again. You shook your head in a futile attempt to tell him off, but you knew you were past the point of pretending you didn’t like his fingers deep inside your pussy. Hux pulled his fingers out and then rammed them back in, and you cried out. He started scissoring you open. 

“There we are—” another crook of his fingers and you whined, feeling your wetness go down his gloved hand, your legs starting to shake—“I can see you like that. Hm?” 

“N-no, I—”

“I know you do,  _ slut,” _ Hux spit out the word, and you felt your face heat up. Sweat was gathering at your temples, and your hair was probably a mess, your lips bitten red and your neck mottled with bruises from his brutal kisses. 

The feared and fearless general of the First Order, in the hands and mercy of her commander, and more than  _ willing _ to comply. You found yourself not caring one bit. 

You needed him to keep going. 

You wrenched your hands free of his grip and grabbed onto his jacket, pulling him so close your noses brushed. 

“What the  _ fuck  _ did you just call me?” you hissed. 

Hux’s now free hand wound around your hair tightly, and he kissed the corner of your mouth, coming to whisper at your ear: “ _ Slut _ .” 

He sped up his fingers, moving in and out of you, pressing in spots inside of you that made your head spin. His thumb pressed outside of your pussy, moving aside your folds to find your clit. You huffed and groaned, hands fisting at his uniform tighter. 

“Ah—” he said as you whined, whole body shaking when leather swiped just right“—there it is. Now you’re going to be a good  _ slut.  _ And you’re going to cum for me.” 

Hux moved his fingers faster, the fire in your belly grew exponentially, making you squeeze your eyes shut and your body feel taut, about to fall off a cliff. Hanging on for dear life. 

“And you  _ are  _ going to scream,” he smirked. 

He kept going until the pressure in your body accumulated to the breaking point, and you came with a broken shout, Hux pulled on your hair to attach his lips to your neck again; fingers so deep inside you, you felt every seam and ridge of his gloves when your pussy clamped down on him. 

A white light blinded you behind your eyes, chest heaving with gasping breaths as you came back from space, legs twitching from the aftershocks, your hands still clutching his shoulders. You felt like your organs had melted inside of your body. 

It had been so long since you’d gotten  _ any  _ action, you felt completely dazed. Out of your mind and floaty with bliss. 

Hux pulled his fingers out with a squelch, his gloved hands now probably sticky with your cum. You immediately missed the full feeling, and you blinked your eyes open just in time to see those same fingers in his mouth. Hux sucked them clean, staring into your eyes, and he smirked when he saw you gulp, still catching your breath. 

You thought that would be it. After all, he managed to finish what he started in the meeting room weeks before, so your hands relaxed their grip on his shoulders, you looked down at the floor in the small space between you and him, feeling just  _ slightly _ embarrassed you had let it get this far. But it seemed Hux wasn’t done. 

Your eyes widened when you saw him unbuttoning his  _ own  _ pants. 

“Um. I—uh—”

“I  _ wonder, _ ” he pulled out his cock, erect and flushed. You felt your cheeks heat at the thought that it was because of  _ you. _ “If you’ll scream louder with my dick inside of you.”

Your eyes darted from his dick to his eyes furiously. This couldn’t be really happening. How was this happening? Why did you want it? 

You fisted your hands in his uniform again, starting to stutter protests, which Hux ignored as he pressed you tighter against the wall with one hand, the other stroking his cock. Thumbing at the precum on the tip. 

“Only one way to find out.” He rubbed his cock through your folds, coating himself in the wetness that continued to seep out of you, and your breath hitched in your chest, nervousness and excitement growing. Your body shivered. You suddenly came to a decision. 

You couldn’t feel anything else but how close he was. How close he was to  _ you.  _ And it was the only thing that mattered. Your lust (more like his lust) that was radiating off of him, filling the air with a palpable tension, took over. If he didn’t get his dick in you soon, you’d scream for it. You were too gone to care. 

You grabbed at his face, pulling his lips to yours, shoving your tongue inside his mouth to taste him again and urge him on. Your hands slid up his neck to his slicked back hair, grabbing fist fulls of it, and using it to move the kiss. Hux groaned into your mouth, grabbing back at your hair and using his other hand to prod his cock at your entrance. 

You gasped out, biting his lower lip, when he breached through with just the tip, already feeling the stretch and burn of it even though his fingers had done more than enough work earlier. He felt big enough that it made you wonder if he’d fit at all. One of your legs kicked up in a reflex, then when it was coming back down to the ground, Hux grabbed at your thigh, hiking it up to wrap around his hip just slightly, giving him more space between your legs. 

“How’s  _ this _ to get you screaming? Hm?” he huffed into your mouth, sinking into your pussy. 

Your chest inflated, chasing very much needed breath as you felt him go in, splitting you open. You could feel every ridge and vein from how tight you still were, and you gripped his hair harder. Hux hissed, kissing you fiercely, squeezing your thigh hard enough for bruises to form. 

It still didn’t work to get you to shut up: “Not good enough,” you let out in one breath, definitely lying. 

Hux stilled then, his lips at the corner of your mouth, every part of his body wrapped around yours and pressing together tightly, his dick halfway inside of you. He brought one of his hands to press his palm against the wall, right next to your head. The hand that had been two fingers deep in you. 

He brushed his lips to your ear, hot breath fanning over your sweaty, heated skin. 

“We’ll see,” he rasped, then pulled his hips back and drove forwards, fast and  _ hard _ , pressing his pelvis to yours. His elbow locked, bracing against the wall to help him sink in to the hilt, and you screamed out, head falling back, feeling his cock stuff you full in less than a second. Your pussy clamped and fluttered on him, trying to adjust to his size, to the sudden intrusion. Your brain had short circuited, lost for any reaction except to cling onto him desperately. 

Hux fucked you like a madman. 

Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t been properly fucked in years or maybe it was your own limited experience, but he was  _ brutal.  _

Pumping his cock deeper into you every time, holding you against the wall like he wanted to fuse you with it; drive you through it with his hips. His green eyes were wild and bright with lust, more alive than you’d ever seen them, a hot blush on his cheeks matched the fading red bruised scar on his temple, where sweat also gathered. His pink lips were pinched tight with the strain he was exercising to move his hips, brow furrowed low, nostrils flaring with every shift forwards into your wet pussy. Your only responses were broken whines and screamy gasps every time Hux hit spots inside of you that set off sparks behind your eyes. 

You felt like you were being pounded to death. And what a way to die.

When Hux burrowed his head into your neck again, biting your sweat dripping skin, and snuck the hand that was on the wall to your clit, between your glued bodies, to rub it ferociously, your whole worldview narrowed. A loud, drawn out moan left your chest as you felt your pleasure rise too fast. The knot in your lower stomach increased in pressure until you were sure you’d explode soon. It felt marvelous. 

“You can do better,” Hux hummed. “Scream louder for me. Cum again.” 

And then you  _ snapped.  _

Not sure if you’d kept your eyes open or if they squeezed shut, you became blind as the signals stopped reaching your brain to create images. The only thing you could feel was your pussy clamping down on Hux’s cock, spasming on his length, as you left your body and skyrocketed to unknown regions of space, reveling in pleasure. 

Very distantly, you felt his grip on your thigh tighten, a huff of hot breath hit your neck followed by a nip, and then—just as your eyes were rolling back—you felt his cock twitch inside of you, bury himself inside your very sensitive cunt, and then cum. 

It was too late when you realized your mental blockage had fallen down, because an array of sensations hit you at once. Fragments of thoughts and feelings from random people on the ship battered your head, too much at once, volume so  _ loud _ , it rendered you deaf for a second; but more prominently, you felt the one that was  _ closest  _ to you in the moment. 

You wailed as you felt not only yourself finish cumming on his cock, pussy incredibly sensitive, but _Hux_ _himself_ spilling inside of you. 

Once again, with your walls down, his body, his responses became yours—and it was like you came  _ again _ , feeling it all through him. Heart chugging blood faster than ever, brain clouded in bliss with pleasure spots lighting up, releasing happy chemicals like a party, an intoxicating and delicious spent-like feeling after being wound up for such a long time. This wasn’t your orgasm; it was  _ his _ . But it felt just as real and pleasurable as any other. 

It was like… a shared climax, amplifying its wavelength as it rolled through both of you at the exact same time. 

It was the culmination of the past however many minutes that had passed since you’d walked in to find him inside your room, the final release of all that tension. 

You leisurely floated back to your body, feeling sated, catching your breath in deep gasps. Hux made a gruff noise in his chest, then slipped his dick out of you slowly, and you felt the combined mess of both your orgasms trickle out of your folds and drip down your inner thighs. You whined when your reflex was to clench around nothing. Empty once again. 

Hux pulled his head back from its spot in the crook of your neck, letting his nose bump with yours before he straightened up to his full height, huffing hot air into your slack jawed mouth. His eyes were faded emerald green, sharp and serious once again, obscuring any emotion from reaching out to you. He grit his jaw, dimple lines appearing, then pushed himself off the wall and away from your body. 

The distance he created between your previously stuck together bodies felt like a vacuum in space, a terrifying unknown. It was scary enough to keep you rooted to your spot, leaning against the wall. 

Hux walked backwards, his gaze a straight line to your eyes, staring into your soul, and he picked up his datapad from your desk before he stopped about midway through the room, right next to his officer cap that had been discarded on the floor earlier. He looked down at it, lazy. Then he raised his eyes to stare at you again. 

The way his heart started beating and pumping, thumping loud and fast, caught you completely off guard. Startled, you blinked, bringing up your fallen mental wall, blocking Hux from projecting his feelings and responses onto you again. 

Hux bent down and swept his hat into his free hand, but when you thought he was going to put it back on his head, he brought it to his cock. Hux wrapped it around his length, his lips parted, his cheeks flushed a deeper red, and he smoothed it over his tip with a fist. Then he let it drop to the ground, once again. 

Your mouth felt completely dry. Your body frozen and limp where you stood; pants half undone, cum oozing out of your core, neck bitten and bruised of fresh, delicate dark spots. You were a stone as you watched him tuck himself away and redo his buttons, pulling down on his uniform jacket, one of his signature moves. 

Hux nudged forwards the hat that had fallen in front of him with the tip of his boot, just slightly. He brought his hands to his hair, running his gloved fingers through it, relatively slicking it back into its prime place. 

“Welcome back, General,” he simpered. 

And then he was gone with a pivot, leaving you discomposed and bewildered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know me and you find this, no you didn't <3  
> (how was it, be honest dear readers, this was the first time I wrote smut and I want to know your thoughts!)
> 
> Happy New Year! There is so much more to come with this story, and I'm beyond ecstatic to continue this going into 2021. Thank you all again so much for reading, good job on surviving 2020, and may the Force be with you next year!


	9. Disobey You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carrying the weight of this secret is more than you ever asked for. You can't afford to spill it. 
> 
> TW: graphic descriptions of violence/abuse/torture

“—neral? General?  _ General!” _

You snapped back into your body with a jerk. “Hm? Yes?” A shaky nod, “Yes!” 

Snoke stared at you, from across the galaxy, through the hologram that projected him, looking a mixture of confused and deeply offended. 

He swallowed. “Tell me… what has you so very distracted, today?” 

“Nothing, Supreme Leader. I just didn’t rest well,” you shrugged, lying through your teeth. 

Snoke narrowed his eyes. The hologram crackled. Your hair prickled up in anticipation. 

You cleared your throat, keeping your face neutral. “It won’t happen again. Let’s please continue?” 

“Yes… how has your progress been?” 

“Good. Building mental blockages like you taught me has been working well. I’ve been less—” you gulped “—distracted by those around me.” 

Snoke stayed silent, taking your words in, for an unbearably long time. You were beginning to think that the connection had fallen through when he finally answered: “Let’s test it out, shall we?” 

You only had time to open your mouth and suck in half a breath before Snoke’s disfigured mouth turned up maliciously. Your world flipped. 

That’s when your head was ripped apart, sliced in the middle and maimed. Your neurons were firing, burning, hot coal cascading through your mind in steady streams, increasing in pressure. The pain spiraled down your body, traveling inside your veins, making your blood boil. Your skeleton shook underneath your skin, a reverberation that exploded colors too bright behind your eyes. Your fingers and hands twitched, raising to claw at your head, wanting to pluck it from your neck and dislocate it from your body to lessen the feeling of being wrenched apart. 

Distantly, you heard yourself scream your throat raw. 

Suddenly, you were horizontal. Your body no longer able to keep itself upright; no longer able to keep your spine erect. You crashed down hard on your side, muscles quivering. Your eyes, which had almost bulged out of their sockets, squeezed shut. 

There was really nothing you could do. Just convulse on the ground, toss and turn with the pain, feel the blood trickle out of your ears to smear your cheeks, and try to keep the bile down your throat. 

Indifferent to your torture, Snoke filed through your thoughts, breaking into your mind. Thanks to his power, he was able to waltz right in. 

After surveying the sparkling darkness, his empty eyes focused on the light brown surface nearest to him. The first one that caught his eye. 

He knocked that wall down: bar in Hapes. A clumsy waitress. A spilled drink. Contentment. 

The rumble of the free falling bricks hitting the walls of your brain tore another choked scream from you. 

Next, he floated forwards. Wrinkly hands reached out to touch dark navy blue. He pushed it over; tipped its weight backwards and sent it tumbling down. 

Another barrier fell: clear night sky. Small stars gleaming. Eroding soil. Peacefulness. 

On the floor of the ship, your body trashed uncontrollably, feeling the bricks flying away,  _ pounding pounding pounding _ into the crooks of your memories. Bloody claws on the smooth trails of your mind. 

He moved on to hit another one. It was blazing, iridescent yellow. It only budged with a  _ boom.  _ Snoke stopped. __

Outside your body, your eyesight was hazy, recovering rather quickly, hands twitching as your palms steadied you to stand back up, and then you gasped as Snoke reeled back a fist. He hit you with so much force, the wall cracked uglily and crumbled down in sickening rapid wisps. Sharp knives flew through your mind, getting stuck in some walls, breaking others, tearing flesh, and stabbing you from the inside. 

You  _ wailed _ , curling into yourself, finding something to grab onto. To add to the pain, you tasted blood in your mouth. 

What Snoke found behind that wall was a queen. A woman. A leader. A green dress. He found admiration. He found gut wrenching shame. The thought of death. 

As the knives continued to tear apart your mind, cutting you and letting the blood spill out, you felt Snoke trail to another wall. This one on the very back of your brain, a small one, a delicate one. It wasn’t for show, but it wasn’t hidden either. Simply not on display, but still the obvious choice. 

Ghosts of his fingers passed over the smooth surface, untouched by anyone else. He dug his nails in, testing it, and eliciting a groan of pain from you as your stomach flipped inside out and back again. 

You anticipated it, but when Snoke punched it, vomit spewed from your lips and you retched a plea for mercy. Snoke cracked it just enough that a  _ red light  _ shone through, and that’s when you panicked, feeling your body try to fight back for the first time ever. Your heartbeat thudded exponentially louder in your ears, adrenaline birthing within milliseconds. There was a newborn decisiveness within you, an awareness and a courage that had been lacking for too long. It burned to life, flickering its flames in your center. 

Your mind whirled fast, like a hurricane born out of nowhere, spinning and spinning fallen broken bricks and cracked knives through the mess he made of the darkness of your mind. They flew faster and faster as you tried harder to take back control. 

You couldn’t let him knock down that wall,  _ you wouldn’t.  _

More screams erupted from your bleeding mouth as your own offense hurt you right back. You pushed the wind of the hurricane faster, until it unbalanced Snoke himself, pulling him back from that small wall; pulling him far away. He tried to keep fighting but you took every hit and flung it back at him, and eventually the hurricane engulfed Snoke and itself—like a supernova—and  _ exploded _ . 

“You can’t hide from me,  _ child _ . You never will,” was the last chilling whisper you heard before you lost consciousness. 

*** 

The ground was bloody when you woke up. 

That’s the first thing you noticed as your eyes focused and unfocused on the red spots over and over. Your vision shifted and adjusted, twos made into ones again, bringing a headache to your temple as if you had been cross-eyed for hours. You tiredly blinked. Your ears were ringing, and you felt your pulse echo in your ear canals. 

The room was spinning slightly, or perhaps not. Your arm trembled as you rolled over and used your forearms to help you kneel. The tops of your thighs touched your chest. You exhaled, lungs feeling like sandpaper. 

As you straightened back up, you groaned. You felt like you had cracked a few ribs. Hopefully not. The room was still vibrating slightly, and you stared at the unsettling movement of the walls. 

There were specks of blood around you. A swipe of your hand over your earlobe and your nose confirmed it was yours.  _ Fuck _ . 

You thanked the Gods that the Starkiller clean up crew knew better than to ask questions because there was no easy way to explain this one. Your head pounded, and you eyed the clock in the room. You’d missed a few hours since training started and you passed out. Maybe a couple hours of your shift in the command center, but you could easily make that up. 

_ Fuck _ , you thought again. The command center. How were you going to explain this to—to  _ him?  _

The answer was obvious: you wouldn’t. It was none of Hux’s business why you didn’t show up to your shift. It was none of his business why you had dried blood on your skin, and a hammer battering inside your cranium. No matter what had occurred, your life was none of his business. 

You pinched your eyes shut, using your sleeves to carefully swipe over your skin, trying to clean yourself up a little more. You needed a shower. 

It took more time than usual to fully stand up, what with the room swirling and swimming around you. You had to sort of drag yourself to your workout bench first, and then use it for leverage. You finally managed to sit on it, elbows on your knees, face in your hands. You licked your dried lips and tasted  _ metal.  _

Swallowing down bile, your stomach pushed back at you, flipping and squeezing your sluggy breakfast up your throat. Using your hands to steady you, they traced the cold black walls as you made your way to your bedroom on shaky legs. There was an agonizing pain on your left hip that shot up from the ball of your foot with every step you took. 

_ Fuck.  _

By the time you got to the freshener, you felt cold all over, shivering even though your hairline was sweaty. You dialed the water to be scorching hot, stepping in with your clothes after chucking your cowl to the ground. 

You peeled your bodysuit off, craving release from the constricting clothes. Your body was bare and breathing again, and you started to relax. You leaned against the wall as the steamy water beat down on you. 

The day was certainly going... well. 

A good scrub down later, and the blood was gone from your face, the water tinted red near the drain as it disappeared forever in the pipes. As you watched the hypnotic oval swirl, you wished you could follow it down and down forever, swim to the other side and perhaps fall right out of the ship and into the vastness of the empty space outside. 

Maybe it was too much to wish for. You had agreed to be stuck on this ship, and now you had to deal with it. 

But that had been  _ before.  _ Before you could even have anticipated the types of problems you would have to deal with on Starkiller. 

Once again, like every time, it kept coming back to the fact that problem’s  _ name  _ was Hux. 

You turned around, letting the water cascade down your back, and leaned your forehead on the cold tile. Your bitch of a headache was throbbing obnoxiously. 

_ Why had he done it?  _

Your mind could keep torturing itself, going around and around in circles, becoming distracted during training, thinking up scenarios and explanations for what had happened the day before—but there might have been one single thing you were sure of. Hux was undeniably and unexpectedly attracted to you. And although that wasn’t exactly your problem (because,  _ whatever _ , if Hux had the hots for you, good for him), it was still not ideal. Because of what had happened, it had suddenly  _ become  _ your problem; you were now directly involved in an illegal affair between officers of the First Order. If Hux had been able to keep it in his pants and had dealt with it himself, then this wouldn’t be affecting you. 

But you still had hickeys from yesterday. And dark bruises on your waist and your thigh. And eyebags from the sleepless night you had thinking of his lips on yours, like he’d branded your skin. 

This was all so very problematic, and your weak limbs slid down to sit on the floor of the freshener, tilting your head back against the tiled wall behind you. You tried to breathe as shame closed up your airway. As much as you hated Hux for acting on his wants, you hated yourself more for letting him. 

There was no doubt about it. That could never happen again. You wouldn’t let it. 

Pain ricocheted in your blood vessels as your head continued to pound, your skin on fire upon touch. Your chest rose up and down as you took deep breaths, focusing on meditating to try to fade the pain.

The water continued to fall. 

*** 

The sound of the doors sliding open pierced your ears. As soon as you stepped through the threshold, a phantom of black clothing, the command center went completely silent. 

Dozens of eyes turned to you, the singularity in the room, like you were a ticking time bomb. Like you’d just come back from the dead. 

Little did they know that you actually kind of had. 

You ignored the lowly officers as you moved forward, feeling their eyes peeling away layers of your skin, and you kept your heartbeat in check. You wouldn’t let yourself get riled up this time. 

Obviously, your colleagues knew nothing of the shenanigans you had gone through in your quarters. For them, you had just stormed back into the command center, late, after being away on the clean up mission for the past two weeks. You were determined to obtain their respect back, and keep them in the dark. 

But you were afraid you were the only one. 

Commander Hux stood near the front window of the large room. He had his back turned to everyone, looking out into space, his gloved hands laced together near his lower back. Hux spun around when you reached the center table, in the middle of the ramp between the windows and the main floor, and slammed your hand down on top of it. The small  _ thud  _ noise was cushioned by the fact that your fist was holding something.

_ Hux’s cap.  _ Left on the floor of your quarters on his merry way out the day before, now crumpled in your tight fist, resting on the smooth table. You glared straight at him. 

Hux furrowed his eyebrows and clenched his jaw when his eyes moved down to find the dark teal material in your hands. With a deep breath, he started walking towards you. 

“Commander Hux. We should talk.” 

His smirk was fleeting as he reached the table, stopping by the border. “Ah, yes,” he said tilting his head at you slightly, eyes glittering mischievously in a sudden change from a few seconds before. He raised his voice when he spoke next: “Our fearless General hath returned from garbage duty. Welcome back aboard, General. I do hope you enjoyed your little vacation.” 

It took every ounce of control in you to not break the durasteel glass of the window and send Hux into the neverending vacuum of space, along with the inhabitants of the entire damn room. 

_ “Silence,”  _ you hissed through your teeth. Your fist came undone from his cap, letting it go, and then you raised your hand to push it across the table with the Force. Hux’s eyes followed the movement, his smirk fading as it slid closer to him. He met your eyes again when it stopped right at the border. 

“You don’t get to  _ speak _ . You don’t get to  _ joke _ . I’m still deciding if I should keep letting you breathe. So be… quiet,” you seethed. 

Hux only blinked at you, but he seemed to swallow down his words. 

“I’ve come here to directly report that the mission on Hapes ground was a success. Their queen signed the declaration of war, and Captain Phasma’s team was very thorough in their sweep for stragglers.” 

You finished talking and looked right into Hux’s pupils, daring him to open his mouth. Simply  _ daring  _ him to give you the perfect excuse to whip out your sabers and cut his head off, let it roll down the ramp, and let the smell of burning flesh fill your nostrils. You silently pleaded with him to stay quiet too. 

“Is there anything else, General?” This time, it was Kahn Baize that spoke up, walking up to stand beside you at the table. You felt that maybe he was a little too close, but admired that he was courageous enough to act this like after catching you and Hux in that room only a couple weeks before. It didn’t matter, he would just be easier to kill distance-wise if you needed to go that far. He seemed harmless enough. 

You tore your eyes away from his brown ones, fixing them on Hux again. It seemed you were both looking at Officer Khan, because Hux flexed his jaw as he also averted his eyes back to yours.

“Yes, actually. For the information of every officer in this room,” you declared as you looked around the command center. “Supreme Leader Snoke has given me the power of veto. And unless the Supreme Leader himself is on board this ship,  _ my word _ is final.” When you finished speaking, you returned your gaze to Hux. 

Taking in your words, Hux’s lips parted slightly, and his eyes narrowed at the corners. He looked at you incredulously. 

You looked to your side, at Khan, who had one of his eyebrows raised. “Is that command understood?” 

“Of course, General,” he answered, flicking his eyes around your face. 

You were ripped away from his intense stare when Hux spoke: “No.” 

“ _ Pardon _ ?” 

He looked disgusted. “I said  _ no _ , General. I will not accept that command without seeing it with my own eyes.” 

You were dangerously close to losing your grip on the syringes of your mind, but you tried to hold on, blinking a few times. “You would disobey your Supreme Leader?” 

“I would disobey  _ you.  _ No offense, General, but after your last  _ debacle _ , I can’t take your word as truth.”

Red coated your irises, and your head exploded with swimming worms of pain. 

“ _ That’s it!”  _ you had Hux by the throat in a flash; his feet had skidded on the floor towards you so your fingers could clench around his neck. His face turned red in an instant, his eyes already bulging a little out of his sockets. You didn't loosen your grip when he choked. 

Your gloved palm felt the bob of his throat, the shift of the bones of his trachea, the way it hitched under your deadly grip. Your eyesight was grim dark crimson. Hux’s pupils enlarged and shrunk and his mouth worked uselessly as he lost his air. 

When you finally let go after a few more seconds, Hux doubled over and used one arm to lean on the table. He gasped and wheezed for breath, his other hand replacing your tight grip on his neck as he rubbed it. You simply stared down at him, your mouth closed tightly, his image still coated in bright red, just now starting to fade in swirls. 

Hux’s head flicked up to meet your off-putting gaze, and wisps of his hair flew back as well. His mouth was agape, lips and tongue shiny with drool and red with bloodrush. His entire face was blushed and you could see the pronounced veins going down his neck. Icy green eyes loathsomely looked up at you. 

“General—” he gasped out.

“Quiet.” you interrupted him, leaning down a little to growl in his face. You spoke slowly, venom lacing your voice: “Take your hat. Follow  _ me _ .” 

Hux reached across the table, grasping his cap clumsily and straightening up. He adjusted his weight, swallowed and licked his lips. “Why?” 

You were already stomping your way out of the command room as you called out loudly to him behind you: “Today’s your lucky day, Commander. I’m finishing the job.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why (that's a lie, I know why, it's because I have no friends), but I like giving a run-down of how I wrote each chapter in the notes when I post it. So, I'm gonna keep doing it! 
> 
> This one took so long to get started! Everything I'd been writing before was leading up to the smut in Ch8, so my head was living in this little world that made that Thee Finish Line, for some reason. I'd been crafting that build so meticulously that it was difficult to keep going. After I got it, it was like. Ok, so um..... where do I go from here??? But when things sit for a long enough time, you get inspired and you get, maybe not what you planned, but what you needed. This chapter was going to be much funnier (see: sleuthing to avoid Hux) but (like everything I write, I swear) it turned very angsty. But I like it, because it makes more sense for the characterization I'm trying to get across. IDK!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hopefully it was a good stepping point from Ch8, so let me know where you thought it was going to go ahhh I'm kinda nervous about this!! 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for being so patient! School is kicking my ass, and I'm writing as much as I can. Your comments are all so kind and they make me cry (of happiness) a lot <3\. Things are just getting started for these two and I hope you're all enjoying it!


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